Maid in Whiterun
by TheKhajiitWarrior
Summary: When our head maid died Jarl Balgruuf tasked me with finding another maid to fill the position. It only took a few hours to find a suitable woman, but then I started to regret my rushed decision. I wondered what if she was an assassin, or an insane psychopath? I swore to watch her as carefully as I can. I was waiting for her to strike. I never knew I would find something more.
1. A New Maid

A banging on my door wakes me up in the middle of the night. I groan and roll over, twisting the covers around me even more. My hand finds a bottle and I bring it to my lips, a few drips of wine leaking into my mouth. I lick my teeth, ignoring the pounding. However, I quickly stand up when Jarl Balgruuf screams, "Irileth! Wake up and get out here!". I stumble around my cluttered room, quickly put on my armor, and rush outside. The Jarl is standing there in his finest robes, his arms crossed. I straighten my red hair and ask my employer, "Yes? What is it? Has another dragon attacked?". The man shakes his head and simply commands, "Follow me.".

He turns and walks away, but I stand still for a few seconds before I realize I'm suppose to follow him. I rush after him and am led into the great hall, everyone gathered around one table. The Jarl motions at the crowd and tells me, "Go look for yourself.". I push through the crowd and see the head maid lying upon the table. It's already clear Fianna is dead, but I check for a pulse before shaking my head. I look at Fianna's apprentice and question her, "How did this happen?". Gerda nervously answers me, "I just found her in her bed. The healer said she died of age.". I sigh and command everyone, "Break it up, there's nothing to see here! Someone wheel this body down to the graves!". Everyone quickly disbands, aware of what I can do.

I turn to return to my room, but the Jarl's hand on my shoulder stops me. He takes me off to the side and tells me, "We need another maid. Gerda is decent at her job, but Fianna did most of the work. We need another maid desperately.". I brush off his hand and assure him, "We'll find one eventually, but a maid isn't the most important job in all of Skyrim.". Balgruuf looks sheepish as he explains, "I might have invited Maven Black-Briar and Idgrod Ravencrone for a feast.". I grind my teeth and manage to ask, "When?". The man I'm sworn to protect shuffles his feet and answers, "Two days from now.". I sigh and tell him, "I'll find a maid tomorrow.".

He coughs and says, "We need one today. Tomorrow is when the maids will need to cook, clean, and get the extra bedchambers ready. We also need to work out the pay.". I groan and assure him, "I'll find one tomorrow, it'll be fine.". I hear a bit of his commanding tone creep into his voice as he threatens, "If you don't find a maid today, then I'll go out and scour the city tomorrow. By myself. _Alone_.". I feel worry gnaw at my insides. "Okay, I'll go find you a damned maid.". The man smirks and says, "Find a pretty Nord woman if you can.". I roll my eyes. "I'll find one who's good enough for the job. I don't give a shit if you can enjoy ogling it or not.". The Jarl sighs and goes back to his job, leaving me to go find a maid. I shake my head and leave Dragonsreach, my hunt started.

* * *

><p><strong>Dovahkiin POV:<strong>

Hulda calls me down from my room. It's roughly two in the morning, but I've learned to awaken to the woman's call. She gave me Saadia's old job after the Redguard disappeared, so the least I can do is come when she calls. The inn is abandoned besides the bullheaded bard who calls this place his house, a bearded man in iron armor who never goes home, and a Dunmer I've never seen before sitting at the bar. Hulda waves me over and tells me, "Go get our finest wine from the cellar. Be quick, I have your monthly pay ready for when you get back.". I nod and rush to do as my employer commands.

The cellar is full of bottles of alcohol and nothing else, but some liquid has still managed to leak onto the floor. I make sure not to step in any deep puddles, I don't want my silver-blue fur to become sticky with beer. I manage to find a bottle of wine that looks suitable for my needs. The blue bottle reflects my sea green eyes perfectly, so that's the main reason I'm drawn to it. I grab the wine and rush back to Hulda, handing her the alcohol. The woman thanks me, then digs around in her pocket. She tosses me some gold and hands the wine to the Dunmer. I thank the woman and turn to leave, but Hulda grabs me and drags me to stand beside her. She grabs my jaw and slightly moves my head back and forth as she tells the Dunmer, "Look at this!".

The elf's eye flicker up to look at me, then flicker back down at the bar. She sips her wine and tells Hudla, "I see her. A Khajiit. You only find them everywhere.". Hulda sighs and explains, "There's something special about this one!". The Dunmer scoffs. My employer's smile falters and she pushes me away. "Go on. Go to bed.". I nod and go back to my room, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I sneak out the second door, go around back, and climb into the guest's room. It's abandoned, so I'm easily able to crawl out onto the balcony. I lie flat on my stomach so I'm not seen, and even go the extra mile of hiding under the table.

The bard isn't playing, so I can hear everything the two women say. Thankfully, it doesn't sound like I've missed any of their conversation. The Dunmer sighs and tells my employer, "Okay, I'm done with my wine. Now, tell me what makes this Khajiit so 'special'.". Hulda easily tells the woman, "She cleans the place better and quicker than Saadia ever could, and she always does it without a single complaint. But the best thing is she doesn't know how gold works! She can't even count to two!". The elf scoffs and tells her, "Impossible. Everyone knows how money works.". Hulda laughs and explains, "She was raised on some godforsaken farm over near Hegathe in Hammerfell. Her parents always traded for things, they never had a single coin in all their lives!".

Embarrassment floods me as I silently admit what the woman has said is true. I don't have a single clue how money works. For all I know my pay could be extremely poor or extremely good. Hulda answers my thoughts by continuing, "Her pay is shit and she still thanks me! All I have to do is feed her and let her use Saadia's old room. The bread is just what's left over from the night before, so I'm practically doing nothing to keep her.". The Dunmer still sounds skeptical as she questions, "What about her worker's receipts? Surely she could read those and realize her expenses are more than her pay.".

Hulda chuckles. "She can't read or write! It's like having a workhorse that can do everything around the inn. Watch.". I hear the breaking of glass and Hulda tells the Dunmer, "I'll call her down to clean up a mess, and then she'll thank me for letting her work for me.". She screams my name and I quickly scrabble back into the room, jump down to the ground, and run around to the front. I come in the second door and rush to the main part of the inn. Hulda looks a little displeased and tells me, "Be faster next time.". I nod and grab a rag from my barkeep clothes and kneel beside the spilled wine, wiping up the liquid. I put the rag back in my pocket and carefully pick up the broken glass. When the mess is clean I throw the glass away, then go outside to ring out my rag.

When I return Hulda once again calls me over. She yanks me to her and pats my shoulder, telling the Dunmer, "Look at her! Such a diligent little worker!". The Dunmer's eyes light up and she asks, "Can you cook?". I nod and the Dunmer follows up, "What exactly can you cook?". I shrug. "I can cook almost anything if you give me the items needed.". The elf smirks and stands before offering, "How would you like a job as a maid up at Dragonsreach?". Before I can answer Hulda in snarling, "Hey, you can't take my damned worker! She's ten times as good as Saadia!".

The Dunmer rolls her eyes and tells my employer, "Yes I can. If she agrees, then she'll get a place up in Dragonsreach.". She turns back to me. "You'd get any food you can cook, and we have every ingredient you can imagine. You would also get a larger room, but you'd have to share it with the other maid. Not to mention, your pay would be 1,200 gold a month. That's over two hundred times what Hulda is paying you.". I shuffle my feet and awkwardly ask, "Is that a lot of money?". The Dunmer chews on the side of her mouth before answering, "It's a decent amount, but not a lot. You certainly couldn't live off it. But we're providing you food and shelter.". I shuffle my feet again and accept, "I'll take the job, but I want to change one thing.". The Dunmer cocks her head and goes, "Oh?".

I nod and tell her, "I want to be taught numbers, how to read, how to write, and how to count. Can someone teach me those? You can take it out of my pay if you need to.". The Dunmer sighs, considers it, and answers, "I'll have to teach you, and I'm _not_ a good teacher. But I'm the only one who knows how to do all of those, and has the free time. If you're willing to allow me to teach you, then you have a deal.". I nod and the woman smiles. "Congratulations. Come on, we need to get back to Dragonsreach. Tomorrow you'll need to prepare for visiting Jarls, so you'll have a lot of work to do. It's best if you get some sleep before then.".

I simply nod in response. Hulda huffs and grumbles, "Fine. Take the damned woman, I'll ask Ysolda if she wants the job.". The Dunmer chuckles, then tells me, "Go gather your things and we'll go. By the way, my name is Irlileth.". I introduce myself before saying, "I don't have any belongings.". The Dunmer nods in understanding, then turns and begins walking away. I quickly follow her, happy to be away from Hulda. I'm certain the woman was taking advantage of me. Irileth still might take advantage of me, but at least I wouldn't know it. I briefly remember my mother saying that ignorance is bliss. I suppose she was right. Irileth takes me up to the seat of the Jarl, briefly holding the door open for me.

She guides me right past the royally decorated great hall and into the servant's quarters, then down to the lowest room. Another woman is already asleep in the room, but the bed opposite her is empty. Irileth pats me on the back and tells me, "I'll come down for you in the morning. Try to sleep till them, the Jarl doesn't need any tired servants.". I nod and climb into my new bed, snuggling down in the blankets as the Dunmer closes the door. I sigh and close my eyes, already worrying about tomorrow.


	2. Suspicions Rising

I'm awoken by Irileth shaking me awake, a scowl on her face. I instantly stand up and ask, "Yes?". The Dunmer calmly turns around and says, "Follow me, I'll show you to the kitchen.". I quickly follow the elf, desperate to keep up with her long strides. When we reach the kitchen the place is bustling, the room jammed full of cooks and their apprentices. The elf grabs me and yanks me over to a separate area, ducks and geese in cages on the table. She hands me a butcher's knife and commands, "Cook them into a stew of your choosing, but make it delicious. I'll be watching, just in case you try to slip something in it while you work. Don't think you're special, every other cook had to go through me looking over their shoulder as they prepared their first few dishes.".

I nod and grab a goose from its cage. I solidly knock the bird across the skull, then hang it from the wall using a pre-prepared tie. The Dumner instantly questions, "Why didn't you kill it?". I begin preparing everything I'll need to cook it. "It's fresher if the bird's alive.". I grab salt, water, olive oil, pepper, flour, onions, carrots, celery, tomatoes, wine, bay leaves, garlic, potatoes, and thyme. Then, I grab a large pot and a spoon. Finally, I hang the rest of the ducks upside down. The first one is dead, the blood all going to his head and killing him. I take the duck down and grab a wastebasket, grabbing my butcher's knife.

I decapitate the duck and roll his head into the basket, then begin quickly plucking and deboning the bird. Once that's done I season the bird with salt and pepper. After that, I cut the meat into small chunks. I throw all the ingredients into the pot. The Dunmer carefully watches me as I do the same process with all of the birds, then heave the pot over to an open fire. The elf has been carefully watching me all the while, but now she seems to press right up against my back as she watches me stir. I awkwardly adjust my shoulder in the hopes the woman gets the idea and backs away. She doesn't.

I sigh and allow the Dark Elf to practically climb on top of me to make sure I'm not adding poison to the Jarl's stew. When the liquid is up to a boil I grab the pot, inwardly screaming as the metal burns into my flesh. As quickly as I can, I heave the stew back to my table. I turn to the Dunmer and ask, "What next?". The Jarl's bodyguard grabs my arm and yanks me over to a table piled high with meats, bowls of pepper and salt line the entire length of the wood. I don't even need to be told, I quickly begin seasoning the meat and passing it down to the cooking station. The Dunmer has a ton of other people she could be watching, but she never leaves my side. Suddenly, she grabs me and yanks me away from the meat. The Dunmer takes me to an abandoned table, wet vegetables forming a small mountain on this one.

She sits me down in a chair and I begin chopping up the carrots and leeks in front of me. However, the elf clears her throat as I work. "I usually ask new workers questions when they come to Dragonsreach, so I can make sure they aren't insane. Now, care to answer a few questions?". When I nod she asks, "Where do you come from? Do you have any family if we need to return your remains to them?". I nearly nick my finger at the question, but catch myself and answer, "I come from a nowhere farm in Hammerfell, and all of my family is dead. Just throw me in a mass grave with the rest of the poor, it doesn't matter to me.". I can see the Dunmer's shocked expression out of the corner of my eye. She nods and mumbles, "My apologies, I didn't realize your kin were dead.".

I wave her apology off with a flick of my hand and assure her, "I've done my mourning. Now, any more questions?". The elf nods. "What were your previous jobs before Hulda?". I shrug and absentmindedly tell her, "I worked at any inn that would take me. There are far too many to name, but I never stayed in one place for long.". The elf leans back in her chair and questions, "Do you have any plans for staying in Dragonsreach long? Remember, answer honestly.". I rip up a piece of lettuce as I answer, "No. I want a job back in Hammerfell, far away from the problems of Skyrim.".

The mountain of vegetables is done, but the Dunmer looks around and tells me, "Looks like there's nothing else for you to do.". The Dunmer shrugs and commands, "Follow me. I can't let the newest worker wander around unattended. That's how assassins could get in and end up killing the Jarl.". I don't bother arguing as the woman begins walking away. I follow her to the best of my abilities, but her longer legs give her a gigantic lead on me. When the woman stops she's outside her room. I expect her to stop, but instead she pushes on through. When I awkwardly stand outside the woman calls, "Come in, I want to keep my eye on you.".

I sigh and go inside, taking a seat across from the woman's desk. When we're both seated the elf pulls out some files from her drawer. She flips through and suddenly says my name, looking up at me with a questioning look. When I nod the woman continues, "Twenty winters of age. Previously married to a Mrs. Anjaajma. No children. Currently not a member of any major religious associations. And, no more kin to speak of. That sound like you?". I nod, and a sudden realization comes over me. "You had someone look me up?". The Dunmer nods and assures me, "We don't know everything, and you've lived a rather unremarkable life up to this point. I'm still going to be watching you, but at least I know a little more about you.".

I'm honestly not sure how I feel about this woman prying into my personal business, but I allow it to drop for now. The Dunmer leans back, clears her throat, and explains to me, "I want to tell you a little about what I expect from you. You'll clean and cook without complaint. That's all in your job description. Literally nothing else. If you manage to fuck this up, then I don't think you even deserve to call yourself an intelligent being. Any questions?". I suddenly realize how filthy the elf's room is. Beer bottles are everywhere, dirty plates litter the floor, and her bed is a mess of tied up blankets on a broken frame.

I'm not sure what compels me to ask the Dunmer the next question out of my mouth. "Do you need a personal maid for your room?". Anger flares on the woman's face, but she seems to calm down when she realizes my offer is genuine. She eyes her filthy room and asks, "Are you being serious?". I nod and the Dunmer shifts in her seat. "I always asked the other maids to clean my room, but all of them complained it wasn't their duty and that it was too dirty.". I shrug and admit, "It's dirty, but I could do it in a day or two.". The woman warily asks, "How much extra do you want for cleaning my pigsty of a place?". I consider it for a minute, then answer, "Nothing. It's my duty as a maid to clean any room my superior asks of me. Besides, you're teaching me to read and write. I think that's payment enough.".

The Dunmer smirks and chuckles, then tells me, "I think you and I are going to get along fine. When can you clean my room?". I shrug and say, "After the feast if you wish.". The woman nods, but a loud knocking on her door stops the conversation. A guard burst in and announces, "The guests are here, and the feast has started!". The woman gets up and instantly commands me, "Come on, no time to waist.". I follow the Dunmer to the main hall, the great fire burning brightly. Twenty royals are laughing and feasting, bards dancing and singing around all of them. The people seem to be eating everything that's on the table.

Stews, sandwiches, and meats all go down their gullets. The Dunmer makes her way over to Jarl Balgruuf, standing beside him. I awkwardly get beside her, trying to make myself as unseen as I can. Irileth doesn't give me any further instructions, both of us standing still for the entire feast. The celebration seems to wear off when the royals find the drinks, downing every single bottle they can. Near the end of the evening a man gulps down a bowl of stew, only to have it reappear instantly when he vomits his guts out. Everyone moves away from him, the man's illness signaling the end of the feast. I'm not sure what to do now, but Irileth decides for me when she grabs my arm and yanks me back to her room.

When we've returned to her desk the elf hisses, "_What was that_?". I nervously swallow and go, "What?". The elf's red eyes snap up to meet mine and she explains, "That man threw up once he sampled your soup.". I shrug and tell her, "He had too much to drink.". The Dunmer rubs her head and snarls, "I can't know that for sure!". Her head snaps up and she continues, "You might be an assassin in disguise. I have to make sure.". I groan and question, "What are you going to do to me?". The Dunmer scratches her face as she speaks. "I'm the one sworn to die for the Jarl, and I'm the one sworn to make sure you aren't insane.

After my room is clean, I'll have another bed brought up. Congratulations, you're bunking with me. And, I sleep with one eye open. You'll never get the jump on me. It'll have to be like this until you've proven yourself to be a friend of Whiterun. Understand?". I nod and the elf rises, telling me, "Good. Now, start cleaning. I'm going to go find some guards and command them to bring an extra bed up.". I nod and hear the woman leave. The _click_ tells me she locked the door behind me. Damned, you'd think the people of Whiterun would have a _little_ more trust. I sigh and get up, starting to clean the filthy place the Dunmer calls a room. The work is brutal, but I hum as I clean. It helps me pass the time. Kind of.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

I can't believe I trusted that woman! Her perfect profile should have made me aware that there was something wrong with her. Nobody slips under detection for that long without being up to something. I'm not sure how, but she must have slipped something into the food while I wasn't looking. The queen's bodyguard threw up right after he ate the stew. It's true he had too much to drink, but it wasn't enough to make him void his stomach. I mean, I've seen younger people handle more beer. It must have had something to do with the stew. Now I have to watch the Khajiit every hour of every day until she's proven she can be trusted. It might take a while, but it must be done. If the woman ends up being an assassin and manages to kill Jarl Balgruuf, then it's my fault because I allowed her into our hall in the first place. I find a guard and quickly command him to have another bed up in my room before everyone has turned in for the night. When he nods I turn and head back to my room. Back to the Khajiit.


	3. Burning Memories

When I enter my room I freeze, the place is completely different. Everything is organized, there's not a speck of dirt anywhere, and for once I can see my floor. Huh, I thought it was carpeted instead of wood. The maid is in the middle of the room, piles of filthy dishes in her arms. The woman sees me and promises, "I need to wash these, then I'll come back.". I shake my head and tell her, "I'm afraid not. I still have to watch you, no matter what.". The Khajiit nods and walks past me, a glass wobbling dangerously on top of a plate. The woman adjust her grip to compensate, making sure everything is balanced as she goes down to the kitchen.

I follow her all the while, watching her for any sign of treason. She doesn't do anything, and when we reach the kitchen she makes her way over to an unoccupied bucket full of clean water. The woman carefully places the dishes in the water, pulling the bucket over to a fire. She hangs the metal pot over the flames, then goes and finds a rag. By the time she returns the water is nearly boiling, the dishes rattling around as she pulls them away from the fire. The woman bites her tongue as the burning metal touches her skin. Without thinking I reach out and take the bucket, my Dunmer flesh completely immune to the hot metal. The woman blinks in confusion, but when she realizes what I'm doing she says, "Thank you.".

I grunt in response and put the bucket down on a table, the plates and cups rattling around inside. The maid walks up to it and groans, shoving her hands down in the water. Without my consent my hands move and my mouth opens. I yank her hands out of the water and practically scream, "Whoa! What in oblivion are you doing?! You're going to burn your hands to a crisp!". The Khajiit looks confused and explains, "That's how Hulda had me do dishes, she said that's how you get them the cleanest. Isn't that how all the maids in Skyrim clean dishes?". I shake my head and answer, "That's absolutely not how all the maids in Skyrim do it! Who in oblivion told you that?".

I realize who it was and before she can answer I question, "Hulda?". When the woman nods I tell her, "That's definitely not how people in Skyrim do it, and I'm certain Hulda was taking advantage of you. All you're doing is hurting yourself.". The Khajiit looks at the hot bucket full of water and dishes. "Why would Hulda want me to hurt myself if everyone else didn't do it this way?". I shrug and tell her, "Hulda isn't exactly the best person if you aren't a Nord. She grew up in Windhelm, and I'm afraid she's brought her close-minded beliefs with her. She probably wanted the dishes done faster than normal, and decided it didn't matter if a Khajiit got a few burns in the process.". I suddenly realize the woman has done this before, and it's possible she's hurt herself.

I release the woman's left arm, using my now free hand to push back some fur on her right arm. Scalding burns are revealed beneath her pelt, and I follow them all the way up to her elbows. I gently reach out and touch her burns, asking, "Why didn't you tell someone about this? How were you even doing your job without pain?". The woman shrugs and says, "A nice woman with red hair gave me a potion to keep the pain away.". I stop rubbing her burns, but leave my fingers on the area as I ask, "Did this red-headed woman tell you what this potion was? Do you recall who this woman is?". The Khajiit sighs and says, "I need to clean the dishes, they'll-".

I stop her by assuring the woman, "The dishes will still be dirty in a few minutes, now answer the question.". The maid shuffles her feet and relents, "She said I wasn't suppose to tell anyone. It's a redhead that constantly comes to the inn, she even talked to Hulda about buying it. She wouldn't tell me the name of the potion, but it came in a purple bottle.". Damn it, I know the woman she's talking about. Her name is Ysolda, and we've put her in the dungeon almost fifty times because of trafficking Sleeping Tree Sap. The sap is legal, but the Jarl has made it clear he doesn't want it in his city. And, it appears she gave it to the ignorant Khajiit to help ease her pain. It'll chase the agony from the burns away, but it'll also chase away any other sense of pain the Khajiit has.

That's ignoring the fact that once that once the potion wears off, then the Khajiit will be in a world of pain. I take a moment to ask, "When was the last time this woman gave you the potion?". The Khajiit shrugs and says, "I think a day or two ago.". I pat her on the shoulder and tell her, "Finish the dishes, then we'll take you to a healer.". The woman looks confused, but turns back to the dishes and pulls one from the now cooled water. She scrubs it as hard as she can, bits of long crusted food falling off into the water. When the plate is clean she puts the plate off to the side, pulling another one from the water.

She repeats the process until all the dishes are clean, the water now disgusting with chunks of food in it. I push the pot to the side as the woman dries the dishes, but I notice something. The Khajiit is doing it as gently as possible, and holding her hands at an awkward angel. Seems the potion is wearing off faster than expected, or maybe it's all in the woman's mind. Either way, it's clear she's in pain and refusing to tell me. She might be a traitor in disguise, but she's an ignorant one if she is. And, I've found it hard not to at least pity the stupid of Skyrim. Hulda took advantage of her to a major extent, and the Khajiit simply put up with it. Besides, the poor woman doesn't even realize when someone's lying to her. She's a simpleton, and she doesn't even know it.

My pity overflows and I grab a rag, assisting the woman is drying. When she looks at me I mumble, "Don't get use to this, I still don't trust you in the slightest.". The woman nods and goes back to drying, a large pile of dishes started. When they're all dried I pat her on the shoulder and tell her, "Come on, someone else will take care of those. Let's go see a healer, your burns need attending to.". The maid doesn't even bother arguing, allowing me to lead her to Farengar. The wizard looks up and waves his hand dismissively. "Leave, I don't have any interest in the new help.". I walk over and roughly shoulder the man. "Get up and tend to this woman's wounds.".

\The man sighs and leans back in his chair, looking at me and asking, "What's in this for me?". I grit my teeth and snarl, "Do it or I swear I'll kick you in the cock so hard your grandson comes out with bruised balls.". The man swallows and wisely gets up, but I see him awkwardly pointing his hips away from me. Another smart move. The man has learned I still occasionally follow through of my threats, regardless of whether or not he's actual gone against what I've said. The wizard walks over to the Khajiit and the woman holds out her burned arms. Farengar brushes aside the fur and asks, "What do you want me to do about these? They've been here for ages, it'll take some hard magic to remove the burns.".

I shrug and say, "Use some serious magic.". The man groans and begins working on the woman's burns. I see the Khajiit begin slightly moving in discomfort, her tail flicking everywhere. I walk over to her and ask, "Does it hurt?". When she nods I tell Farengar, "Don't hurt her.". The man shakes his head and explains, "Impossible. The burns are deep, and I'm certain they've at least touched the muscle. Scald burns are also the hardest to heal, and her entire arms are covered. There's no way this can be comfortable, unless you want me to give her some skooma.". Before I can say 'no' the Khajiit is shaking her head at me and begging, "Please, I'll suffer through. Skooma is the daedra's work, and I don't want it anywhere near me.".

I nod and tell the wizard, "Fine, but work fast.". Farengar nods, never easing up on the woman's arms. I decide to distract the Khajiit. "So, why so against the skooma? Did you get off it or-". She interrupts me by saying, "No. I never touched the stuff, but three of my brothers and four sisters are in the ground because of it.". I nod and question, "They overdosed?". She shakes her head a little and explains, "One brother and two sisters overdosed, but there were other reasons to. My two other sisters got their skulls bashed in by some dealers they didn't pay, and the two other brothers were killed by a cartel leader when they tried to avenge my sisters. After that, nobody in my family tried anything else.".

As Farengar continues to work I question the woman, "So, your family was into drugs? That didn't appear on your file.". The Khajiit adjust her feet, the burns on her hands gone. "Kind of. My mother, father, and uncle never touched the stuff, but quite a few of my siblings enjoyed their skooma. I'm the youngest in the entire family, so it never really reached me". I nod and run out of questions, but quickly think of something. "How large is your family? Seven dead siblings is a lot.". The Khajiit lets out a small laugh before saying, "That's not even half of the children my parents have. They've put thirteen in the ground, and they still have thirteen walking around.".

"Eight dead daughters, five dead sons, nine living daughters, and four living sons. My mother was married once before my father, and had seven daughters from that marriage. My father was married twice before my mother, and had one daughter from the first marriage and seven sons from the second one. Then, they got together and had ten sons and one daughter.". She puffs up her chest and demands, "Guess which one I am.". I chuckle a little and ask, "The one daughter with the ten true brothers?". She nods and continues, "Of the thirteen dead six were daughters and seven were sons. My mother lost five girls and one son from her first marriage, my father lost five sons from his second marriage, and two of my true brothers died.".

I do the math and tell her, "One daughter is missing from the dead.". The Khajiit nods and further explains, "My mother gave birth to a stillborn daughter, so I didn't add her to the count.". She suddenly looks at the floor and seems to retreat upon herself. I clear my throat and ask, "Did I say something that offended you?". The Khajiit shakes her head and assures me, "It's nothing, just bad memories.". I shift my weight to one foot, my curiosity peaked as I ask, "Care to tell?". Farengar is moving up to her elbows as she explains, "The dead child was buried on the same day I was born.".

It takes a second to click together, but when it does I mumble, "I apologize for my pressing, and for your loss.". The twinless twin shrugs and says, "Nothing to apologize for, you didn't make me say it. Besides, nothing I can do can make the dead come alive. All I can do now is live for two.". I cock my head and ask, "Is that why you came to Skyrim?". The Khajiit nods. "I wanted to live my life off of a farm. As _fun_ as it was to have my arms elbow deep inside a horse to help her give birth, I still think Skyrim holds more opportunities for me.". Farengar yanks his hands off the woman's arms and announces, "Done! Absolutely done!". The man walks away, probably to clean his hands after hearing the horse story. I pat the Khajiit on the shoulder and tell her, "Come on, it's dark out. Time for bed.". The woman nods and follows.


	4. Trust

The Khajiit curls up in her cot, her silver-blue fur turning black as I blow out the candle. I get into my own bed and wrap myself in my clean blankets, internally praising the woman on how well she cleaned the room. I usually have trouble falling asleep, but tonight it's rather easy. However, it only seems like a few seconds have passed when I'm awoken by the roar of thunder. I wake up, but don't even bother opening my eyes. All I do is mumble and try to go back to sleep, but a certain noise is keeping me awake. The sound reminds me of a dog about to be struck, fearing the next blow but never knowing when it's coming.

I'm originally not concerned with this, but when I realize the sound is coming from the room I snap up. The Khajiit is still in her bed, but now her blankets are in disarray. The thick covers are completely enveloping her, hiding her from my sight. But I can still see the pile shaking in terror. I rub my eyes and slowly stand, my armor still on. The woman is still whimpering as I walk over to her, eventually standing right beside her. I reach out and pull back the covers, revealing the terrified woman. Her wide green eyes lock onto me as she keeps shaking in terror, the woman letting out another noise of terror as thunder strikes somewhere. I blink to make sure I get the picture right, then ask her, "What in oblivion are you doing?".

The woman manages to whimper, "Storm.". I nod and tell her, "We have those in Skyrim, just like Hammerfell. Now, why on Tamriel are you whimpering like a beaten hound?". The Khajiit jumps at another crack of thunder, then explains, "I've never liked storms. I'm terrified of them.". I remember she grew up on a farm in the worst possible place in Hammerfell, typhoons and twisters are always hitting that area. I understand it would be terrifying to live on a flat farm in that area, but she isn't in Hammerfell anymore. Twisters are almost unheard of in Skyrim, especially in Whiterun Hold. Besides, she's in Dragonsreach.

It's the safest place is Skyrim, excluding High Hrothgar. I assure her that, but she still looks terrified. I manage to keep my eyes from rolling as I ask her, "Why are you so afraid?". The woman starts pulling the covers back over her as she explains, "Our farm always seemed to get hit. Never the main house, but barns were almost always destroyed. I'll spare you the details of what the place looked like afterwards, but you can imagine what all the animals looked like.". I realize the storm isn't going to ease up anytime soon, and I have to do something about it. "What did you do on the farm to comfort yourself?". The Khajiit pulls the covers over her head as she answers, "I would curl up with my mother in her bed, or one of my older half-sisters if my mother was too busy.".

The wind begins to scream outside, desperately trying to break into our stone fortress. The pile of blankets begins to shake harder, and I realize the woman will be exhausted in the morning if she keeps this up. I sigh and sit down beside her. "Stop it.". The Khajiit briefly stops shaking, but resumes as soon as the storm reminds us it's there. I sigh again and tell her, "You're safe, now stop shaking and get to sleep.". The pile of blankets doesn't bother answering me as her shaking intensifies. A thought creeps into my head and I offer, "I can go get you a whore to warm your bed. She won't fuck you, but she'll at least be a warm body to curl up with until the storm subsides.".

The Khajiit sticks her head out of the blankets long enough to shake her head. I sigh and question, "Why not?". The Khajiit's voice is barely audible through the thick blanket, but I manage to make it out, "I don't want someone I don't know in the same bed as me. Besides, my mother said whores are full of diseases.". I feel anger and fatigue gnawing at my mind, but in a flash it's replaced by pity. I groan and ask her, "What do you want me to do? The storm is going to last the whole night. Do you want to sleep in my bed?". The woman stops shaking and I quickly tell her, "I was being sarcastic, the offer isn't real.". The woman's head reappears and she questions, "Why not? I think it would actually help.".

I shake my head, but reconsider when thunder strikes somewhere close and the woman lets out a yelp of fear. I'm never doing to get any sleep as long as she's up. We don't really have anything to do tomorrow, but I still don't want to sleep until the middle of the day. I groan, consider all of my options, and tell the maid, "I'm giving you exactly three seconds to get in my bed. If you aren't there, then the offer is-". I can't finish the sentence, a silver-blue Khajiit already wrapped up in my blankets. I sigh and lock my door. I definitely don't want a guard to walk in and see me curled up in bed with the newest maid.

I don't have the cleanest record in all of Whiterun, and I'm certain any rumors that spread would be considered factual. I walk over and shove the Khajiit to the side, climbing into my own bed. The second I'm under the covers two warm arms wrap around my middle, the maid's legs tangling with my own. The Khajiit presses her face into my shoulder and mumbles, "Thank you.". My response is immediate. "Don't speak of this to anyone. Ever.". The maid nods into my shoulder, her breathing evening out even though the storm is still raging outside. I close my eyes and try to do the same, but I'm struggling to ignore the warm body pressed against me. It takes some mental discipline, but eventually I push the thoughts to the side and manage to fall into the abyss I call 'sleep'.

* * *

><p>I sigh in pleasure as I wake up, only dimply aware of a warm body wrapped around me. Did I hire a prostitute and forget about it? No, the tail rubbing against me reveals the person is a Khajiit. I'd never hire a Khajiit prostitute, too many diseases. I suddenly feel tits press against my arms, further revealing the person is a woman. My mind seems to snap itself awake as I realize there's a female Khajiit in my bed. However, I calm down the second I realize it's the maid. The storm has calmed down and I'm guessing it's around five am, so I could easily push the maid out of my bed and into her own. But I don't. I'm not sure why, but I don't want the woman to leave.<p>

Maybe it's just because a warm body beside me is a rare comfort I'm never given, or because I now trust the woman not to slit my throat. If she wanted to kill me, then she would have done it last night. Besides, you can't fake being that terrified of thunder. She not only revealed one of her biggest fears to me, but also went to me for comfort. This woman isn't a threat. At least, she's not a threat to _me_. I still might want to watch her around the Jarl. Balgruuf is known to drink far too much, and he makes himself vulnerable in his drunken states. The maid suddenly rubs against me as she moves in her sleep, gentle mumbling sounds coming from the woman's mouth.

I just close my eyes and lie there for a few hours, enjoying the warmth of my bed and the Khajiit. Finally, six rolls around and I hear everyone moving around in Dragonsreach. I decide to wake the Khajiit, but for some reason I don't want to do it in my usual harsh way. I can't quite place why, but I settle on pity. I gently reach over and rub the woman's hairy face as I whisper, "Wake up.". Her eyes flicker open and her slit pupils lock onto me. She licks her silvery lips and asks, "What happened?". I take my hand off the face and remind her, "You were afraid of the storm last night, and I comforted you.".

The maid sits up and stretches, her claws coming out as she raises her hands into the air. The woman pops her knuckles and tells me, "Thank you. I can't emphasize how terrified of thunder I am, you helped me immensely. I don't think I would have made it through the night without you.". I sit up beside her and _crack_ my back as I assure her, "Don't worry about it, it was nothing.". The Khajiit scoots to the foot of the bed and asks, "What do you want me to do today?". I shrug and offer, "I could start repaying you for your work. There's nothing to see to today, and the Jarl will be surrounded all the while. I'm not needed to watch him, and you're not needed to clean. If you want I could take you to the library, and teach you the first three letters of the alphabet.".

The woman's eyes light up and she says, "I'd love that.". I stand and tell her, "Change into some clothes and meet me in the library.". I leave the Khajiit where she is and head down to the great hall, and quickly gather some food for me and the maid. I make my way to the newly built library and find an empty table, the gigantic room completely abandoned. When the maid finds me I'm tearing apart my breakfast, a book open in front of me. I wipe off my face and motion for her to sit by me, an excited look coming over the woman's features. When she's settled I push a plate of food towards her. "Eat this, but pay attention. I'm going to tell you the first three letters of the alphabet and how to pronounce them, then I want you to repeat them. Understand?".

She nods her head as she picks up an apple, her sharp teeth shredding the apple's flesh and her eyes lock onto me. I point to 'a' and tell her, "A. Pronounced 'ah' most of the time, but if it's alone just pronounce it like it is. It's like a tepee with a line through it.". I draw it beside the example, hand her the quill, and tell her, "Repeat.". She manages to write a shaky 'A' and pronounces it well enough. I nod and explain, "We'll focus on capital letters for now, but eventually I'll teach you how to write an 'a' in lowercase.". The woman nods in understanding, pushing her apple to the side. We practice on 'b' and 'c' next, then review. I'm so busy teaching her I don't notice when day slowly slips into afternoon and afternoon into night, my entire day spent with the Khajiit at my side.


	5. Breakfast

When night finally comes I put the book to the side, stand, and tell the woman, "Come on, we have work to do in the morning. Back to guarding the Jarl for me, and cleaning the place for you.". The maid nods and stands, her dress swishing around her legs as she walks after me. When we're in my room I clear my throat and say, "You don't have to sleep in here any longer if you don't want to. You've earned enough of my trust to sleep with Gerda if you wish, I'm certain the guards would catch you if you tried to sneak out.". That may have come off crueler than I intended, but it's true. Well, probably true.

I've never seen the Khajiit try to sneak around, but just the way she walks tells me she couldn't do it. The maid in question awkwardly shuffles her feet and explains, "I don't think Gerda likes me.". I cock my head in confusion. "What gave you that idea? Gerda likes everyone.". The Khajiit shakes her head and explains, "I think she imagines I'm trying to replace the dead maid. She always knocks over my cleaning supplies, glares at me, and nearly pushed me down the stairs once. That was only after one day here, I don't want to imagine what she would do now. I'm honestly terrified she'd try to smother me if I slept in the same room as her.". I sigh and rub my neck as I try to explain the situation to the woman. "We don't have any free rooms, and Gerda is the only person you have clearance to sleep in the same room with.". I see the Khajiit's eyes go to my bed, probably remembering last night.

She clears her throat and offers, "I can just continue to sleep in here. Not in the same bed, but in the same room. That is, if it's okay with you.". I seriously consider it for a moment. I see no reason why she can't stay in here. Nobody's raised an eyebrow so far, so I don't see why they suddenly would. Besides, the woman makes enjoyable company. I nod my head and announce, "Okay, we'll keep the sleeping arrangements the way they are.". The Khajiit smiles and gets into her bed, but a knock on the door interrupts us. A guard sticks his head in and tells me, "A winter thunderstorm has been spotted far to the north.".

"It probably won't reach us, but the Jarl wants everyone informed. Just in case.". When he's gone the maid asks me, "What's a winter thunderstorm?". The concern in her voice reveals she's terrified it'll involve thunder, which it obviously does. I begin taking off my armor as I explain, "It's almost winter, so we get those storms occasionally. They're thunderstorms where snow falls instead of rain. They're rather rare, and I'm surprised we're getting one this early in the season.". I'm dressed for bed and turn to get in, then remember the Khajiit's irrational fear of thunder. I turn and see her green eyes are wide and bugging, her sides already beginning to shake. Before I can say anything, the maid looks at my bed before turning to me and asking, "Please?".

I grind my teeth together for a short while before relenting, "Fine, but never speak of this. And, I swear this is the last time you'll be in my bed.". The silver-blue Khajiit nods and climbs into my cot, still in her dress. I don't say anything about it, instead blowing out the candles that decorate my room and climbing into bed beside the maid. As I close my eyes I realize how freezing it is, and quickly sit up to yank my second cover over us. As I settle again I sigh at how comfortable I am right now. The thick covers wrap me in warmth, my soft bed is already accepting my body, and the Khajiit beside me is adding to my comfort.

An extremely far-off _crack_ of thunder hits my eardrum, and two warm arms wrap around my waist. Her legs tangle with mine and I consider telling the woman to release me, but I eventually decide against it. Her arms are nice around me, an uncommon comfort I haven't had in years. I feel her tail wrap around my waist and hold in my chuckle, the maid almost attempting to push herself into me. The pitter-patter of rain on stones slowly reaches my ears, and I realize the storm has started. I look over to warn the Khajiit that the storm has reached us, but the maid is fast asleep. I close my mouth and spend a moment looking at her calm expression, and suddenly see a thin flowing pattern on her face. It even goes down to her neck, disappearing into her dress. It's actually quite beautiful. I put my head back down, allowing warmth to usher me into sleep.

* * *

><p>When I wake up the smell of food greets me, so I happily sit up and look around. The Khajiit is long gone, but breakfast is at my desk. Ham, eggs, sausage, and a thick slice of bread. I find a bucket of ice below the desk, three bottles of beer in it. I smirk and take the alcohol from the bucket, placing them by my food. Steam is rising from the plate and I happily dig into it. The Khajiit probably did this, but I have no idea where she went. I remind myself that the maid is a fully grown woman and can go wherever she pleases, so it shouldn't matter to me where she is. Besides, she has a job to do.<p>

When my food is gone I toss the plate to the side out of instincts, but realize the maid will have to clean it up. I usually don't care, but for some reason I don't like the thought of the Khajiit having to pick up my dirty plates because I decided not to. I pick the plate back up and put it to the side, opening my bottles of beer and quickly downing them. When my breakfast is gone I collect my dishes and head downstairs, keeping my eyes peeled for the maid. I don't find her, and I put my dishes up rather sullenly. I'm leaving the kitchen when I run into Jarl Balgruuf, a grin splitting the man's face. He catches me by the arm and spins me around, chuckling as my scowl deepens. The Jarl pats me shoulder and advises, "Loosen up, everything went absolutely perfectly!".

I roll my eyes and ask, "What went perfectly?". The Jarl stops and explains, "The royals loved the feast! And, this place is practically sparkling! You did an amazing job at picking a maid! I don't think there's a better one in all of Skyrim!". For some odd reason I feel a mild spark of jealously twist my gut. I've enjoyed having the maid to myself, and even the idea that the Jarl has noticed her is upsetting. Balgruuf is my dearest friend, but he's an imbecile when it comes to women. Well, 'pig' would be a better word. There are honestly times when I wonder if the man has more bastards that he admits (so far he's only fessed up to two). He doesn't like Khajiit women, but in his mind a cunt is a cunt.

I remove Balgruuf's hand and tell him, "Good.". A thought strikes me and I ask, "Did you enjoy your breakfast?". He shakes his head. "I haven't eaten yet, that's what I came down here for.". A deep relief floods my consciousness. The Khajiit only took time out of her schedule to make me breakfast, not the Jarl's or anyone else's. It might just have been because I let her sleep in the same bed as me two nights in the row, but at least she thinks I'm special enough to get up early and cook for. I'm walking through the great hall when Gerda practically storms by me. I remember what the Khajiit said about Gerda and stick my arm out, stopping the maid from going any farther. The maid freezes and looks at me, her eyes filled with a sea of rage.

I'm not sure what I want to say to the woman, but eventually I decide on, "Have you seen your fellow maid?". Gerda nods and begins trying to walk away, but I flip around and grab the back of her dress. The maid sighs and slowly turns to face me, crossing her arms as her glare reaches me. I couldn't care less what the woman thinks of me, so I ask, "Where _is_ your fellow?". Gerda turns and points up to the second floor. The Khajiit maid is scrubbing down the railings, the wood now shining like new. I pat Gerda on the back, mumble a 'thanks', and rush up to meet the Khajiit. She looks up when she sees me, nods in greeting, and goes back to cleaning.

I approach her and say, "You made me breakfast.". The woman nods and agrees, "I made you breakfast before you woke up and placed it where you would find it.". She never takes her eyes off her work. I lean against the still slick railing and question, "Do you do that for everyone, or was it just because I comforted you when the storm came?". The Khajiit looks up at me and playfully challenges, "I thought we weren't suppose to talk about that. And, no I don't just do that for everyone. I also didn't do it because you comforted me. Well, partly not because you comforted me. You seem kind enough, and I thought it would be a nice surprise for you if you woke up and breakfast was already made.".

I feel my hand begin to slide and right myself, I don't want to look like a fool in front of this woman. I don't want to look like a fool in front of anyone in all of Tamriel, but especially not the maid. When I'm straightened I can't think of a way to continue the conversation, so I simply thank her. The maid nods and begins working even harder, the wood shining underneath her diligent hands. I see the hard muscles in her arm strain, her dress pulled up to her elbows and showing off her arms. An idea creeps into my mind and I offer, "Do you want to learn how to fight?". The Khajiit straightens up, tosses her rag over her shoulder, and asks, "What?". I quickly think and explain, "Just part of your payment. You need to learn to fight in this world.".

"I'm not saying Skyrim is crawling with criminals, but it's always good to be prepared. Come on, take an hour off work and let me teach you a few things. Gerda can finish up here, I'm sure she won't mind.". The maid looks over her shoulder and mumbles, "I really shouldn't...". I reach out and take her arm as I gently encourage her, "Come on. You need to learn, and I promise you'll enjoy it.". The woman's head slowly turns back to look at me, and when our eyes are locked I whisper, "Please?". I want the woman to learn how to protect herself, Skyrim is a dangerous place. Besides, spending some more time with her is just an added benefit. The maid finally has her answer, "Okay.". Without another word I grab her hand and begin yanking her towards the training area.


	6. Misstep

When we're in the training yard I walk over to a sword rack and grab two weapons, taking one of them over to the Khajiit. She awkwardly takes the blade in her hand, unaware of how to hold the weapon. I clear my throat, show her how to hold the weapon, and tell her, "Hold it like this.". The woman tries to hold it like me, but her wrist is still not positioned right. I show her two more times, but the woman still isn't getting it. I walk behind her and tell her, "Like this.". I reach out and gently take her hand, showing her how to hold it. When I remove my hand she continues holding it right. I pat her back and assure her, "Good. Keep it like that.".

She nods and I walk around to stand in front of her, taking in the appearance of the woman. It's odd seeing the woman holding a weapon, but I'm certain I'll eventually get use to seeing her like this. I take out my own sword, back up a little bit, and make a downward slash. "Do as I do.". The woman tries to do the same as me, but her swing is weak and childish. However, I don't tell her that. Instead, I walk behind her and take her arm again. I take her arm upwards and guide it down, using my own strength to encourage her to swing harder. I repeat the motion a few times before telling her, "Good. Try it on your own.". I go back around to her front, watching her mimic my swing like I taught her.

When she does it right I smile and tell her, "Very good.". I go behind her and take her arm again, this time making a sideways swing. The Khajiit swallows and tells me, "You didn't let me try it on my own.". I hum and agree, "I didn't. I thought this way would be faster.". That's true, but there's also a little lie shoved in there. I've come to enjoy being in physical contact with the woman. I hate to admit it, but I'm a physical being. I bond quicker and learn faster physically, and it makes sense in my mind to want to touch the woman. Even a touch of the hand or bump of the shoulder makes me feel closer to her, and warriors need to feel close to people.

It makes sense. Maybe. Or maybe I just like feeling the woman pressed up against me. That's really up for debate right now. I repeat the action with the Khajiit for a few moments, the woman eventually getting the hang of it. When she's got that down I grab both of her hands, bringing both of them to the pommel of her sword. I raise the weapon above her head, and bring it down with all my might. I can't help enjoying the sensation this gives me. The Khajiit's muscles strain and work against my body as we repeat the action, her back practically smashing against my breast. I repeat the motion as many times as I can without looking odd, then pull back and go around to the Khajiit's front.

I step back and tell her, "Show me what you can do.". She repeats all of her movements, the maid straining through the final few. I can't blame her, it's the fact her stamina is so low. We'll have to build on it later. For now I walk over and pick up a dagger, handing it to the woman and taking her sword from her. I go behind her and take her hand, making a complex movement with the dagger. Then, I show her a few more movements. I close my eyes as I work, enjoying the sensation of the woman moving against me. Completely professional, nothing odd about a trainer enjoying the sensation of her student's body moving against hers.

Nothing wrong at all. Suddenly, the Khajiit coughs and asks, "Can I do some of the movements on my own?". I feel my face heat up as I pull back and tell her, "Okay.". I go to her front and watch her do the movements herself. When she's done I go and bring her a shield. I strap it to her arm, show her how to bring it up to protect herself, then go around to face her. I pull a dagger from my boot and tell her, "I'm going to try to hit you a few times. Don't worry, I'll be gentle and give you a long time to react. Just try to block me as best as you can.". The exhausted maid nods, panting as sweat drips from her pelt. I wet my lips and swing at her, the dagger harmlessly _clinking_ off her shield.

I strike again, her shield barely protecting her ribs from my blade. I begin slowly walking around her, forcing her to turn her body to protect herself. Finally, the woman's foot slips and she goes down. As the maid lies on the ground I walk over and tower over her, but make sure to smile to let her know I'm not going to hurt her. When the Khajiit tries to get up I playfully push her down with my foot. "Admit defeat.". The woman sees the glint in my eyes and smirks, but I see a bit of hesitation in her face. She's obviously unaware of why I'm acting like I am. Although I'm not even sure why I'm acting like this. The woman just seems to bring this side of me out.

The Khajiit suddenly whispers, "Never.". I gently push the dagger out of her hands, kick it away, and put my foot back on her chest. "Surrender or face the consequences!". The Khajiit shakes her head and tells me, "Die with honor before being taken.". I shrug and tell her, "Okay, your funeral.". I grab her by the waist and heave her up, spinning her around and chuckling as the maid begins to giggle like a child. When I stop we're both panting, and my arms are shaking. I put her down and the woman suddenly says, "It's not wise to let your enemies escape.". I face her and ask, "Who says I let you escape and didn't just let you go?". The Khajiit turns to me and says, "This.".

I'm lifted off my feet by the Khajiit, my sword hanging uselessly at my side. I let out a sound of surprise as I'm forced to the ground and the wind is knocked out of me. I feel two clawed hands grab my wrist, and look up into the cinnamon colored Khajiit's blue eyes. Her smiling face is so close to mine I can make out light flowering patterns in her pelt, the shapes just slightly darker than the rest of her. In that moment I feel a thousand emotions swirling inside of me, and I know I shouldn't be having any of them. She's a filthy farm girl from Hammerfeel that I'v just met, my heart shouldn't be getting warm at the thought of her.

I haven't even done much with her, all we did was share a bed on a stormy night. I should be interested in teaching this woman, not anything else. All of these thoughts occur to me, but I push them to the side as I lean up and lock my lips with her. The Khajiit goes rigid and unresponsive, her lips uncaring as I try to get her to kiss me back. I pull back and look up at the Khajiit, her blue eyes swimming with tears. Oh by the nine, what have I done? I open my mouth and begin, "I-". The woman is gone within a second, her faint spicy scent the only remnant of her. I slowly stand up, guilt and fear gnawing at my organs. Why did I do that? Why did I even want to do that? I stand up and walk over to a wall, kicking it as I snarl, "Stupid.".

A calm voice agrees, "Stupid.". I look over and see Balgruuf slowly walking over to me, for once his steps not messed up by drink. When he reaches me I ask, "How much of that did you see?". He sighs and answers, "All of it. So, did you hire the new maid because you like her?". I shake my head and mumble, "I didn't even know I liked her until just then. What am I going to do?". The Jarl shrugs and asks, "Do you want to pursue a relationship with her?". When I shrug he continues, "If you want a relationship, go find her and ask her what's wrong. If the problem can be fixed, then fix it and start a relationship with her. If you don't, then move her out of your room and never speak of her again.".

I kick a rock beside my foot and tell him, "I barely know her.". My friend pats me on the shoulder and assures me, "You don't have to know everything about one another before you start a relationship. Getting to learn stuff about the other person is part of the fun. Besides, the worst she can say is 'no'.". I scoff and snarl, "Easy for you to say. Almost every woman in Whiterun hold would be happy to be with you. I'm a Dunmer! Are you aware what the Dunmer did to the Khajiit?!". He nods, but counters, "You didn't do anything to her. Your ancestors did something to her ancestors, but you never took part in it. Besides, what your ancestors did to one another shouldn't stop you two from getting together. So, what do you say?". I think a moment, then tell him, "I have a Khajiit to go find.".

* * *

><p><strong>Dovahkiin POV:<br>**

I panic and rush back to my shared room, hide under my blankets, and silently pray Irileth doesn't find me. Why did she kiss me? Did she know I like women? My mother kicked me off the farm because of my desire. Is Irileth playing some sick joke on me before she banishes me from Dragonsreach? That has to be it. There's no way she could have been serious. A woman like her would never settle for a woman like me. Filthy, poor, and stupid. I stop mentally kicking myself and slowly get up, my blanket hanging from my shoulders like a cape. I find my bag and begin packing as quickly as I can, determined to be gone before Irileth finds me. If the woman wants to play some sick joke on me it's fine by me! She'd just better know I'll be gone before she can catch up to me.

I shove everything I own into one bag, then decide what to do. I guess I'll go back to Hulda and beg her to take me back. So much for learning how to read or how to fight. Oh well, I guess some people just aren't meant to be smart. Besides, I know three letters of the alphabet. That's something at least. I look around the room and quickly decide to clean up before I leave. It'll show Irileth I'm a mature person, and that I still do my job no matter what. It might not mean much, but it's a petty statement that'll soothe my conscious. I'm sweeping up some dust when someone at the door clears their throat. I turn and see Irileth standing there, blocking the exit. She swallows and says, "Hey.". I feel the broom clatter from my hands and tears refill my eyes. Oh gods no.

* * *

><p><strong>Due to Christmas, the next update will be delayed.<strong>


	7. The Universe at Our Feet

I push past the Dunmer and storm into the main hall. I'd planned on leaving the building, but I accidentally left my luggage in my room. I don't want to face Irileth again, so I decide to make a detour until I can manage to get my possessions back. The kitchen is bustling when I enter it, every cook working on making sweets for some reason. I shrug and walk over to a empty table, yanking some dough and flour towards me. I'm kneeing it when I feel someone come up beside me. I begin to pound the dough harder without looking at the elf. Irileth sighs and begins, "I'm-".

I raise the dough above my head and slam it against the table, the _thunk_ of the dough hitting the wood drowning out the woman's words. The Dark Elf sighs again and repeats, "I'm sorry if I offended you.". I ignore her and start throwing the dough from one hand to the other. The Jarl's bodyguard allows me to pout for a few moments, then starts again, "I'm truly sorry. Can I ask why my kiss upset you so much?". I grab some flour and sprinkle it on the dough, tears blurring my vision as I work. I feel a gentle hand come to rest on my shoulder as I pound the dough. In an instant I recoil, dragging the food with me and working on it a small distance away from the Dunmer. I begin tossing the dough back and forth when a dark hand lashes out, snatching the ball from the air.

I turn and see Irileth looking at me, the gunk hanging from her hand. Tears begin rolling down my cheeks and I turn to leave, but a wall stops me from escaping. I can practically hear the elf swelling up with confidence and pride, but I refuse to turn around. The woman allows me to glare at the wall for a few moments before resuming her useless speech. "I'm sorry if I've misinterpreted your feelings. I thought you liked me, and I just wanted to show you I felt the same way before you quit your job or went back to Hammerfell.". I feel a deep anger boil in my stomach as I flip around to face the woman. "THAT'S NOT FUNNY!".

Irileth jumps a little at the sudden burst of emotion, but once I'm silent she squints in confusion and asks, "What in oblivion are you talking about?". I straighten my back and practically snarl, "I'm not sure how you found out, but you and I both know I didn't leave my home at my own choice.". She looks further confused and assures me, "I have no idea what you're talking about.". I feel my anger burning as I growl, "My damned bitch of a mother kicked me out when she found me in bed with another woman. You know that, and you decided to spit in my face by reminding me that!". The elf's red eyes seem to visibly soften as she whispers, "I didn't-". I push by her again, using her distraction to my advantage.

I have no idea where I want to go, but I end up on Dragonsreach's Great Porch. I sit down on the edge, sticking my legs between the bars and allowing the wind to play with my limbs. Someone sits down beside me and I purposely turn me head to the side so I don't have to see Irileth. The elf is silent for a few moments, then whispers, "I really didn't know.". I scoff. "I don't believe that for a second.". I feel a bottle being pushed into my hands, and look down to see some Black-Briar Mead in my palm. I throw the bottle off the porch, watching it descend all the way to the ground below. Irileth sighs and mumbles, "That comes out of my paycheck.".

I suddenly realize I can probably go get my luggage and be gone before Irileth can catch up to me. When I begin struggling to get up the Dunmer quickly tells me, "No, please! I really didn't know! The file never said anything about you leaving your farm! Please, let me explain!". I freeze up and slowly lower myself back to the ground. I don't look at the Jarl's bodyguard as I tell her, "You may explain.". Irileth swallows a little before launching into her tale. "I'm not exactly sure how I feel about you, but I'm certain this is about the most romantic I've ever felt. I'm not bothered with lowering my guard around you, and I don't even think you're an assassin in disguise.".

"I don't know much about you, but I'd like to learn. That's more than I can say about most people. I had no idea you even preferred woman to men, or that you were exiled from your home because of it. I just like you, and wanted to show you it. If I had any idea what you'd been through, then I would have just told you how I feel.". I slowly allow some tension to leave my shoulders and turn to look at the woman. Her eyes are gentler than I've ever seen them, and her facial expression is one of understanding and a little pity. It's an odd look that I've never seen on the Dunmer's face, and one I know I'll never get use to. However, it tells me her words and genuine. I shift on the uncomfortable stone and honestly tell her, "I'm not sure how I feel about that.". The elf pulls her legs up and scoots closer to me.

"Well, what do you think you feel?". I take a deep breath and close my eyes, looking inside myself and trying to disentangle my feelings for the woman. She seems kind enough (at least to me), I don't mind spending time with her, and her personality seems pleasing. She's also attractive, but that's just an added bonus. Like adding extra icing to an already decent sweetroll. I open my eyes and honestly answer the woman, "I'm not entirely sure how to feel right now, but I think I enjoy you well enough.".

The woman's face seems to light up and she asks, "Does this mean you forgive me for what I did?". I flick my ears down to my skull and consider how to answer. "I suppose it does, although I'm still hurt.". The Dunmer nods and promises, "I'll make it up to you somehow. Some nice wine or some flowers.". Something changes in her scarlet eyes as she questions, "Do you wish for me to begin courting you, or am I still misinterpreting your desires?". I offer her a small chuckle before confirming, "I would love for you to begin courting me. Now, can we please go back to talking like a normal people? We've been talking like stuck up royalty since you kissed me.".

The Dunmer smiles and promises, "I'll stop talking like 'stuck up royalty'. I was just making sure I didn't say something to make the situation even worse.". She suddenly remembers something and says, "It's a good thing you agreed to let me court you.". I raise an eyebrow and go, "Oh? And why is that?". Irileth calmly explains, "You got every single cook's attention back in the kitchen, and they were able to piece together what happened. There were already whispers of us being quarreling lovers when I left.". I groan and question, "Is that going to mess anything up?". The elf shrugs and admits, "I wouldn't think so, but I can't say for certain.". A sudden gust of wind hits us, biting us to the bones.

I shiver and Irileth moves to sit beside me, leaning in so our warmth is shared. We both fall silent and I realize the sun is beginning to set off in the distance, the gigantic red orb slowly dipping beneath the far-off mountains. I suddenly whisper, "Have you ever been there before?". The elf questions, "The mountains?". I nod and admit, "I always wanted to climb one, but I never got the change. Is it high on the top? What does it feel like to conquer one?". The Dunmer leans her head against my shoulder and whispers back, "How do you explain color to a blind man? I've climbed plenty of mountains, but the first time is always the best.".

"Being lightheaded, frozen, and exhausted is somehow exhilarating when you reach the top. The air is hard to breathe, the sun is shining in your eyes, and your entire body is numb because of the cold. But when you stand on top of that mountain and see the world sprawled out before you like a map, it's all worth it. Then, the entire universe seems to awaken. The cold air begins to stir your hair, the sunlight suddenly tones down and allows you to see for miles, and everything falls silent as you seem to watch the entire world come to a standstill. But my favorite part is looking up at the night sky. The only thing separating you from eternity is a few clouds and the moon.".

"The infinite universe is stretching on forever right in front of your eyes, the cosmic dance of the cosmos desperately trying to get you to join in before you die. Purples and blacks mingle and swirl around the distant points of white light, the illuminating moon shinning down upon our mortal plane. The entire sky seems to twist and writhe right before your eyes, the occasional cloud twirling and becoming a wispy partner of some ghostly unseen dancer that inhabits the sky. It's like looking into the eyes of god as he slowly grasps our reality, changing it to better suit his needs.".

I fall silent for a few moments, then tell her, "You have quite a way with words. If I didn't know better I'd think some poet said that.". The Dunmer chuckles and swears, "All the words are mine, although I can understand the confusion. I can be quite the poet if I want to be, but I rarely want to be. However, I think I'll make an exception for you and spin the quilt of words for you more often than for most.". I keep looking at the mountains and confide in her, "I think I'd like to climb a mountain one day, and look into the eyes of god like you speak of.". I feel the woman's arm slowly wrap around my waist. "I promise one day I'll take you to the highest point of the highest mountain in all of Tamriel, and show you what it's like to look at the cosmos of our universe.".

I can't help chuckling and explaining, "We've known each other for a few days and you've only been courting me a few minutes, but you've already promised me the impossible.". The elf twines her fingers with mine and mumbles, "It's not impossible.". I nod and assure her, "It's impossible.". Her hand tightens and she insist, "It's not impossible, nothing truly is. You never know what will happen in life, or where our paths will take us in this strange world. Besides, I've always wanted to see the highest point in the world. Taking you would give me a real reason to go instead of sitting on my ass and complaining.". I scoot a little closer and tell her, "We'll see.". We fall silent and watch the sun slowly get swallowed up by the horizon, the infinite cosmos beginning to stretch out in front of us.


	8. Worrying Misconceptions

When the sun is down the night awakens, the stars illuminating the sky. I feel Irileth take my hand and twine her fingers with mine. Her thumb rubs the back of my hand and I make sure to keep my claws sheathed. Scratching your partner isn't a good way to start a relationship. Footsteps catch my attention, and Irileth and I both look back to see Jarl Balgruuf walking towards us. He nods at me and tells Irileth, "I need to speak with you.". The Dunmer nods and stands up. Before she leaves she turns to me and says, "You can wait here if you wish, or you could head back to the room.". I nod and stand up, already prepared to go to bed.

All three of us go back into Dragonsreach, but that's where we separate. The Jarl and his bodyguard go left, and I have to go right to return to my room. When I get there I realize my dress is filthy from pounding the sweetroll dough like there was no tomorrow, and I'll need to clean my clothes before tomorrow morning. I sigh and take off the material, neatly folding it to the side before looking for sleep ware. When my mother kicked me out she didn't give me a warning, and Hulda still has the few sleeping outfits I managed to bring to Skyrim. I haven't gotten around to buying any new clothes, so I only have the ones on my back. In the end I'm forced to make a difficult decision. Wear my underpants or get dressed in Irileth's clothes. It's an obvious choice, and I crawl into bed wearing only my undergarments.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

When we're in his room Jarl Balgruuf nearly makes me jump out of my skin when he laughs, his gutsy bellow echoing around the room. My friend slaps me on the back and proclaims, "You dog!". His strong hit nearly send me sprawling, but I right myself and regain my dignity before asking, "What?". The Nord smirks and goes, "Oh no you don't, you little seductive vixen you. Why didn't you tell me?! I would have had the cooks pull the finest wine from the cellar!". I fear the Jarl has had far too much to drink (he isn't making sense), so I carefully ask, "What?". The man looks slightly perturbed and says, "Irileth, you don't have to play innocent anymore. Everyone in the whole damned city knows!".

I feel a muscle in my face twitch as I repeat, "I have no idea what you're talking about. What have you been drinking?". The man grunts in mild anger and tells me, "You finally found someone to fuck!". My heart spasms in panic and I whisper, "_What_?". Balgruuf groans and finally gives me a straight answer. "All the cooks heard you and the newest maid arguing!". I rub my temples and question, "How does an argument give you the impression we're fucking?". My old friend looks surprised as he answers, "The cooks said you two were arguing over something you did to her while you were fucking her.". I feel anger burn my face and ask, "What _exactly_ did these cooks say?".

My friend stokes his beard, thinks for a moment, then sheepishly answers, "They stated it looked like you'd beat the poor woman. The head cook said the maid cowered from you, you trapped her in a corner, and wherever she went you came storming after her. They didn't hear much of the argument, but they thought it sounded like you'd hurt her while you two fucked. A few swore the maid had a black eye, but it's clear that's not true. Or maybe it is, I didn't look at the woman too closely. Anyway, congratulations! After all these years, you finally found someone to fuck you!". Damn it, is that what it looked like to other people?

Wait, did it actually look like that?! Now I'm concerned if the Khajiit agreed to be in a relationship because she liked me, or because she was afraid I'd beat the shit out of her if she refused. I'll have to make it clear to her she can leave the relationship at any time, and that I don't want to force her to do anything she doesn't want to do. I suddenly realize something else, and question my friend, "You thought I'd beat the woman, hurt her while we fucked, and forced her into a relationship?". When he nods I practically snarl, "Why were you congratulating me?!". He seems taken aback at my fury and simply shrugs. "Well, you haven't been in a relationship for years. I just thought you'd be happier.". I raise my hands, curl my fingers, and tell him, "I'll speak to you later on this matter, but I'd _never_ hurt that woman.".

At Balgruuf's skeptical look I basically roar, "I WOULD NEVER HIT HER!". I calm down a little and continue, "I would NEVER hit her, or anyone I was in a relationship with.". The man raises his hands in defense and goes, "Whoa! Whoa there girl! It's just-". He hesitates before finishing, "you're a stubborn and sometimes angry woman. I've seen you snap at people easily, and you something say...creepy things to people you don't know well.". I have to hold myself back from exploding as I ask, "What do you mean?".

The man chuckles to try to ease the situation, but when that fails he becomes stern and says, "You're my bodyguard, and you act like it. But you can come off as... harsh and... well, not a lovable person. I've never seen you initiate a relationship, and I just don't know what to expect. Besides, I don't know what to expect of your people-". I cut him off by growling, "_My people_?!". My old friend nervously swallows and tries to make the situation better, "It's just, you're the only Dunmer I've ever met! I just don't know how you people court one another, or what traditions you do. Besides, the damned Dunmer enslaved the Khajiit for hundreds of years! You could have just been reliving your ancestors power or something. Isn't that how you people catch yourselves on fire?".

I can't help grinding my teeth. "You think beating my partner is part of my _culture_?! That it's _normal_ for the Dumer to hit the person they're courting?". Balgruuf is desperately looking for a way to backtrack, but when he can't find any he squeaks, "Was I wrong?". I slowly nod and whisper, "Horribly.". When we both fall silent I close my eyes, slowly counting to ten as rage pounds in me.

When I'm subdued I look up at the man and calmly explain, "I didn't hit her. We're partners willingly. Dunmer don't beat their other halves, even if they are Khajiits. Any questions?". When my friend shakes his head I tell him, "Spread the word, I don't want anyone thinking the Khajiit was forced into this.". He nods and assures me, "I'm sorry for getting the wrong idea.". He opens his arms and asks, "Still friends?". I nod and mumble, "Still friends.". When I don't hug him the Jarl laughs and snatches me, picking me off the ground and spinning me around. His ever-growing gut is pressing into me, his tangled beard still has beer foam stuck in it, and he reeks like a whorehouse.

My friend has been picking up some bad habits recently, but I'll have to deal with those later. Right now I need to focus on talking to the Khajiit. When Balgruuf puts me down I pat his shoulder and tell him, "Be safe, I need to find my partner.". The Jarl nods and mumbles, "I need to do the same.". I roll my eyes, the man clearly meant a whore. However, I ignore him and begin walking back to the great porch. The place is empty, but there's something wrong. Clouds are gathering in the northwest, and they're coming quickly. I can already see the lightning, and the far-off roar of thunder is troublesome. I remember the maid is terrified of thunderstorms, so it looks like I can look forward to having her in my bed tonight.

That thought actually causes me to pause. I've slept in the same bed with her before, but that was before we were officially courting. Will she still want to share a bed? I can only hope, I've come to enjoy the feeling of her curled up beside me. And, the stormy season is coming up. So, it looks like everything is working out pretty well for me. When I enter my room the woman is wide awake and already huddled in my bed, the blankets wrapped around her like she's a literal cat. I have to hold in my chuckle at the sight of how cute and child like her blue eyes peeking out of the blankets seem. I quickly lock the door from the guards and go over to my bed, motioning for the woman to scoot over.

The maid awkwardly looks away and mumbles something. I make a 'hm' noise to let her know I didn't hear her, and the woman says, "I don't have any sleep wear.". I know my first reaction shouldn't be to look up and down her blanket-covered body, but it is. I clear my throat and offer, "I could get you one of my undershirts and some pants, or you can just sleep as you are.". My partner scoots over, allowing me in. When I peel back the blankets I can't help feeling surprised. I thought the woman was naked, but instead she's wearing her undergarments. It's probably for the best, I don't want to rush anything in our relationship. When I'm in bed the woman happily curls up to me and I recuperate her actions, my head coming to rest at her shoulder. We both close our eyes, allowing sleep to take us.

* * *

><p>When I wake up the storm is still going on, but it's quieted down some. I wake my partner up and tell her, "Get dressed in some of my regular clothes, we need to go get breakfast.". She nods and complies, putting on a spare set of my commoner's clothes. When she's done I can't help looking at her, the material clutching the maid's tits. I quickly shake it off and twine my arm with hers, guiding her down to the great hall. I can't help noticing the strange looks everyone is giving us. That's when I remember what everyone thinks. To their knowledge I've beaten the maid recently, and I've already fucked her. Damn, I'll have to set the record straight soon.<p>

A relationship won't last if everyone thinks you're attacking your partner. In Morrowind if you're guilty of spousal abuse the penalties are steep, the highest being the town beating you within an inch of your life. I completely agree with my people's outlook on abuse, but in this case I'm innocent. I know Skyrim is rather soft when it comes to beatings, but I don't want people to think of me as a bullheaded Dunmer that'll gladly beat the snot out of the woman she's fucking. Besides, the maid doesn't deserve to have that hanging from her either. By now we've reached the kitchen, and I happily take the Khajiit over to a table full of alcohol. I'll need it, I can already tell it's going to be a long day.


	9. The Jarl's Commands

I have my lips wrapped around a bottle of beer when Balgruuf finds me, and I instantly know what he wants. He's in his leather armor, and has a long bow strapped to his back. His armor is constricting his body and I can already see sweat beading on his blushing flesh. My friend has put on a few pounds and it's starting to show. I'll have to tell one of the servants to secretly get him a bigger set of armor, and replace his current set while he's not looking and not wearing it. The man clears his throat to get my attention, but I just keep drinking my alcohol. I already know he wants to go hunting, I'm just trying to find a way to stall having to answer him.

We've already argued enough for one day. However, eventually I run out of beer. The maid senses we wish to speak alone and quickly dismisses herself, walking away to help a cook make some pastries. The Jarl smiles when I put down my bottle and tells me, "I want to go hunting on a three-day trip. I'll take a party, and I want you to come with us.". I shake my head and begin rattling off the list of dangers, but eventually I give up when it's clear Jarl Balgruuf isn't going to see reason. When the man sees he's won he puffs up his chest, then offers, "You can still accompany us. Just let me hunt once in a while instead of killing all the animals like last time.". I sigh remembering the last time Balgruuf tried to hunt.

I killed anything that had four legs, flew, or swam. I even came close to shooting a careless squire who got separated from the group, but the girl had the sense to jump aside at the last second. She still got a scar on her shoulder from my arrow, but at least she could eventually show it off to whatever friends she might have. However, I suppose I can't do that to Balgruuf this time. The man screamed loud enough to wake the dead when I shot a prize deer before he could. I still don't understand how he blamed me, that deer could have charged and killed him. What kind of Jarl dies from a deer? But I swallow my pride and tell him, "I promise I'll allow you to actually hunt. Just let me go tell the maid I'll be gone for a short while, then we can gather the supplies and go hunting.".

My friend raises an eyebrow and assures me, "Take the woman! She'll love the fresh air.". He suddenly grins. "Besides, I'm sure you could sneak off with her while I and the group clean the kills.". I ignore his suggestive comment, all of Whiterun has the false impression that the maid and I are fucking. I'd love to take the Khajiit with me, but I'm not even sure if she would like hunting. I motion at Balgruuf and tell him, "I'll have to ask the woman if she wants to go with me, then I'll decide what I want to do.". He nods, but says, "Be ready in an hour if you wish to leave.".

When he's gone I go and find the maid, the bluish Khajiit happily pounding some dough. I pat her on the back to get her attention, then tell her, "Jarl Balgruff is going hunting and I have to go to protect him. Would you like to come with us?". I expect her to say 'no', which is why I'm so surprised when she nods her head. I smile and say, "Wonderful. Let's go get ready.". She looks a little upset at not being able to go in her normal outfit, but doesn't argue and follows me to my room. I'm a little taller than the woman, but we're roughly around the same weight. That means she'll be able to wear my normal leather armor.

I even go as far as giving her one of my few helms, sliding the protective material over her skull. When she's outfitted I nod in approval and assure her, "I'll get you a bow and some arrows. Do you know how to shoot?". When she shakes her head I assure her, "I'll give you a short lesson, and you'll learn as you go. Trust me, I'm sure you'll be good enough to shoot a mammoth.". I realize I've said the wrong word when the Khajiit freezes up, and I'm certain the color has drained out of her face beneath her pelt. I offer a weak chuckle. "Don't worry about it, you'll have thirty warriors with you. The beast will go down before it can even see you.". The woman doesn't look reassured in the slightest.

I pat her shoulder and promise, "No mammoths. Now will you come?". She still looks hesitant, but eventually nods. I smile and take her hand, leading her out of Dragonsreach and down to the stables. Fifty horses are already there, imported from all around Skyrim for Balgruuf's hunting trip. I pick a brawny stallion for me, and a springy mare for the maid. When that's done I hand her the reins to my horse and tell her, "Hold these, I'll go get us some hounds.". She nods and begins petting her mare, the sweet tempered beast already taking a liking to the Khajiit. I find the dogs pinned up, all of them yapping and jumping against the wooden fence.

I chuckle and grab three, carrying the pooches back to the maid. I tie one dog to her saddle and two to mine, all of the animals sniffing one another and getting familiar with their new partners. Finally, I tell the Khajiit, "Balgruuf will bring the weapons and wine. Along with the rest of the party.". She nods and we both get mounted, the hour up. Balgruuf arrives with crossbows (damn, I hate those contraptions), every drink known to man, and a tremendous party of hunters and warriors behind him. I even spot Aela and Farkas among the group, the two Companions armed with their traditional weapons. It takes a long while, but when everyone is ready (has a crossbow and ten skins of wine) Balgruuf pulls his war horn from his belt.

A single blow is all it takes to set the group to moving, Balgruuf leading the herd. And, of course I'm right by his side. The Khajiit seems nervous about being at the front of the group, but it appears she doesn't want to lose me. When we're a safe distance from the city Balgruuf yanks his horn out again, blowing once again. Damn it, I should have warned the Khajiit about this part. I manage to scream a quick word of caution to her, then everyone does what the horn signifies. As one unit every rider smacks their horse on the side or ass, causing a controlled stampede across the plains of Whiterun.

I'm easily capable of keeping up with Blagruuf, but a new problem presents itself. I gave the Khajiit a sweet mare in hopes she could control her, and it's clear she can. However, the sweet horse is obviously well past her years of running with a tremendous herd. The Khajiit's beast is already lagging behind, and I'm terrified she'll get swallowed up in the stampede. Nobody is stupid enough to knock another rider to the ground, but the woman could easily get pushed to the back of the herd. I'm aware she's a grown adult and can take care of herself, but I don't like the idea of her being alone in the hunting group. Besides, it would take hours to find her, and I'd have to be guarding Jarl Balgruuf the entire time. No, I definitely don't want to get separated from her.

So, it appears I have a choice. Let Jarl Balgruuf stay defenseless and hang back with my partner, or stay and guard my best friend while the maid gets swallowed up by the hunting party. The Jarl must see my dilemma because he leans over and tells me, "I'm surrounded by fifty warriors, and nobody knows where I'm going. I'll be fine, now go. Be with that maid of yours, gods know you could use the time.". From the glint in his eye I know the last part was meant to be dirty, but I ignore it for now. I whisper 'thank you' before turning my horse around, rushing to meet the maid. A few riders curse me as I push past them, my partner already slightly back in the giant herd.

For a moment I'm terrified I won't find her, but then I see her silver-blue pelt and charge over to her. A string of cursing follows me, but I couldn't care less. The Khajiit's face splits into a grin when she sees me. I flip my horse around and begin riding beside her, the hunting party speeding past us as the maid's mare pants in agony. Eventually it's just the two of us, the trampled and torn ground our only indication of where the rest of the hunters went. Now I know I've made the right choice. As we ride I ask, "Do you enjoy hunting?". She shrugs and admits, "I've never been. Is it any fun?". I take a moment to consider the pros and cons of the Jarl's type of hunting.

I find it enjoyable and it helps me take my mind off bigger issues in Skyrim, but there are plenty of reasons to disdain it. The crowd, smell, and bloody animal corpses are just a few reason. But I want the woman to enjoy the experience, so I keep my opinion out of it and honestly tell her, "I think you'll enjoy it. You'll just need to get the hang of it.". She nods and suddenly urges her horse a little closer to mine, our legs brushing against one another with each of our steed's steps. I hold in a smile and take one hand off the reins, holding it out to the woman. I feel her clawed fingers intertwine with mine, then woman accepting my invitation.

It's a difficult task to ride a horse while holding hands, but we manage it. The dirt beneath our beast's hooves gets fresher, and I know we must be near wherever Balgruuf decided to set up camp. Sure enough, we ride up a small hill and see the nearly abandoned camp below us. We both stop and look around. I can clearly see where the riders went, but now the prints are fainter. They're not riding their horses as hard, and they're attempting to be quiet. I know from experience that in a mile or two they'll all break apart, so they can all kill the animals of Whiterun more effectively. The maid doesn't see the path, and I quickly decide to use this to my advantage. I have a surprise for her planned, and I'm certain she'll love it. Hopefully.


	10. Mountains

The woman's horse follows close to mine as we climb the steep mountain. The mountain is small compared to the one I climbed when I was younger, but it'll have a wonderful view. My stallion is huffing and puffing as I slap his sides, determined to reach the top of the stone formation. The thin trail is making it tough, and I know I shouldn't look down. Looking down would make the world seem to swing and ruin any chance of getting to the top. However, the temptation is too great. I spare a look down at the world below us. The steep grey side of the mountain has a few sparse trees growing from it, powdery snow clinging to their branches.

The plains below the trees are dancing in the wind, and the tree's branches are dancing in the opposite direction. It's a terrifying effect, and I feel my stomach beginning to retch up my breakfast. That's when the world begins to swing and dance, the air suddenly becoming too thin for my liking. I shake my head and face the right way, mentally cursing myself. I'm the Jarl's bodyguard! I should know better than to look off over a cliff and gaze at the ground. That's what children do, not full-grown Dunmer! I suddenly realize my horse is closer to the edge. The beast must have felt me leaning over to the side, and his instincts compelled him to go with the weight of my body. Damned stupid and loyal horse.

I yank him back on path and rub his side, gently encouraging him to go faster. Finally, I reach the top of the small mountain. All of Whiterun is stretched out before me, but not a single city in sight. The beautiful golden plains of Whiterun shimmer in the breeze, the green trees of our sparse forest wave in the wind, and a thick river runs right through the path. The sun is warming the entire area, and the animals of the hold are alive and moving. Three deer graze by the rushing river, a goat leads her two kids closer to the mountain I'm on, and a saber cat lazily cleans himself in the middle of the plain. A _caw_ from the sky brings my attention up to the world above me.

The clear skies seem to go on forever, as if I could fall into them and be swallowed in eternity. A single eagle flies in the ocean of air, his stilled wings guiding him upwards. I slowly dismount and feel the maid do the same. Her gasp of awe gets my attention, and I turn to see the look on her face. Her eyes are looking off at the sights I've already taken in, and her face is completely relaxed in wonderment. I lean over and wrap an arm around her shoulders, my partner leaning in to me and whisper, "It's amazing.". I nod in agreement and squeeze her shoulders in affection, our horses snorting is disdain as they're suddenly left alone. The maid sighs in amazement and nestles up even closer to me.

I turn my head and lean over, the woman doing the same. I smirk when our lips meet, sinking into the kiss and ignoring the world around me. But the maid seems to be hesitant, as if she's waiting for me to take the lead. Oblivion, that's fine by me! I snake my hand up from her shoulder to her head, twining my fingers in her golden mane. I pull her closer and deepen the kiss, the woman gasping in seeming surprise. That little gasp is all I need, the tiny gap enough for me to invade her mouth. The woman's hands come up to my back, her claws coming out and sticking in my armor. The leather protects me, but I consider for a brief moment to halt.

If the woman doesn't want the kiss to continue, then I would stop in an instant. However, the woman continues the kiss and doesn't do anything to stop me. I assume that this in encouragement, and keep going. The Khajiit slowly brings her arms down to cover my waist, and I wrap my other arm around to likewise tangle in her mane. The maid allows me to in essence dominate and defile her mouth, my rough kissing causing the other woman to become short of breath. The Khajiit is the first to pull back, gasping to catch her breath. My partner pulls back a little and offers, "Do you want to sit down? We might be here a while.". I nod and pull back, allowing the maid to sit down.

I take a seat beside her and lie back, keeping one arm out for the woman to rest on. Sure enough, she lies down and curls up beside me, her arm coming to rest across my midsection. Our two free hands come together, my thumb running over the back of her clawed hand. I bring the appendage up to my face, kissing her knuckles and sighing in content. The eagle above us is circling. The poor bird probably expects a meal any moment now. Too bad for him that all four of the creatures on the mountain are alive. However, the flying menace will get some food soon enough if the Jarl's hunting party goes well. And, his hunting _always_ goes well.

If it doesn't, then there will be oblivion to pay for someone. Most likely Balgruuf's unfortunate squire. I'll have to talk to my friend about his temper, weight, and drinking eventually, but right now I want to focus on the Khajiit that's curled up beside me. I release her hand and roll onto my side, the woman copying my movements. When we're settled I reach out and stroke her mane as I ask her, "How could Hammerfell have birthed a woman like you?". She leans into my touch and asks, "Do you like the woman my homeland has given to you?". I'm about to nod, but something bothers me about the woman's statement. It takes a few seconds, then I realize what it is.

The Khajiit said she was given to me. I'm not some old rich lord in a far away land, sitting on his throne and waiting for a virgin princess to be handed over to him by her reluctant parents. Then, a question worms its way into my mind. Is she my equal? For some reason that thought puts me off a little. Do I not like the idea of her being my equal because she's a maid? Maybe, but it's a fact I'll have to swallow. She might not be my social equal, but in a relationship she _is_ my equal. So, I correct her, "I'm more than pleased that you're my partner, but Hammerfell didn't give you to me. You came here at your own free will, and entered a relationship with me by your own choice.".

Her ears flicker in confusion and she asks, "Am I not yours then?". My mind suddenly connects something. She grew up in a rural farm and her mother kicked her out for liking other women. The poor Khajiit was probably told she would be given to some man to marry. Most likely a merchant or farmer who's better off. I stroke her face and tell her, "If you're mine, then I'm yours.". She looks a little confused and put off at the idea, but nods and assures me, "Fine. I'm yours.". I smirk and repeat, "And I'm yours.". I lean in and gently kiss her, enjoying the moment. The Khajiit sighs into the easy kiss, her tail coming up and wrapping itself around my waist.

As we lie there I ask her, "Are you happy with me?". She nods and asks, "Are you with me?". I chuckle and assure her, "I couldn't be happier with anyone in the entire world.". I might be overdoing it a little, but I've found that most people don't care. A lot of them are just happy to be complemented, and being complemented is always nice. Besides, I know I like to be complemented. And, from the look on the Khajiit's face she does to. I smirk again and kiss her forehead, then ask, "What do you want to do with your life?". She shrugs. "I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life when my mom kicked me out, but I'm starting to get an idea.".

I inwardly smile and whisper, "What?". My partner offers a small grin and quietly tells me, "It involves you.". I move my hand down to rub her side as I tell her, "I already like it.". My partner looks away and I swear I can see her blush through her thin pelt. I bring my hand down even more to her hip, rubbing my thumb over the bone I find. "Tell me more.". The Khajiit shakes her head and mumbles, "It's silly.". I kiss her forehead for a second time and promise her, "I swear I won't overreact or laugh. Everyone has a valid hope or dream. Please?". The woman sighs and admits, "I just hope that nothing bad happens, and that we're happy together.". A valid hope. And, one I hope I can fulfill. I lean in and kiss her, already trying.

* * *

><p><strong>Jarl Balgruuf POV:<strong>

I pull a skin of wine from my saddle, chugging the liquid. When I'm done I toss the bag to the side, listening to my squire as she talks to me. "So, I had an idea yesterday.". I wipe my tangled and wet beard as she asks, "What if an Orc used their Berserker power while they were fucking someone?". I laugh and tell her, "I'd imagine whoever the Orc was fucking would get a nasty surprise in the morning.". My squire chuckles and agrees, "It doesn't sound pleasant, but I'd use it if I was an Orc.". I eye the skinny Nord, the woman barely old enough to leave her household. I shake my head and remind her, "Don't give Orcs any ideas, those people already have the ability to rip people apart with their bare hands. No need to give them any other ideas.".

The woman suddenly perks up and says, "I just had another idea! What about Redguards? They could use their Adrenaline Rush to keep going for a while! Could you imagine that?!". I laugh loud enough to startle my horse and tell my squire, "That's not bad, that's actually a good idea.". I give her a dirty smirk and tell her, "It would work perfectly with their _curved_ _swords_!". We both erupt into laughter, the small group around us joining in. When I've calmed down another thought occurs to me. Irileth is my best friend and protector, but she still hasn't caught up with me.

Where could she be? I mentally try to imagine where I'd be if I was her. Hmm. If I was a self-confident Dunmer with a slutty young maid as my lover, where would I be? I probably wouldn't have left Dragonsreach, and would have spent the two days making the maid too sore to walk right. But Irileth isn't like me. However, another dirty thought creeps into my mind. There was a small mountain around here that Irileth and I use to climb as children. I didn't care for it much, but Irileth always liked it. The Dunmer swore she would only take a special person up there. Is the Khajiit special enough? They've only known each other for a short while.

No, impossible. My friend has simply gotten the same fever I got when I found someone particularly good at fucking. My friend will get over the maid eventually, and I'll just have to be ready to help her once the maid phase is over. The poor Khajiit. She'll never see it coming. Although, I'm terribly surprised at my friend. I never knew she'd jump into bed so soon. Oh well, she can do whatever she wants with her body. As long as it doesn't bring mine into the equations. My musings are interrupted by the sound of a horn. The entire party freezes, listening for another blow. Two blows. Three. Four. Five. We all turn around and beginning riding away as quickly as we can. Five blows can only mean one thing. Stormcloaks.


	11. Stormcloaks

**Maid POV:**

I'm snuggling up beside Irileth when a loud blowing sound alerts us. Irileth bolts up and my head falls to the ground. I grunt and sit up, the Dunmer nervously jittering her feet as she waits for another blow. Four more blows come before they halt. My partner turns back to me, still as a statue, and whispers, "We need to run.". I stand up and question, "What?". The Dunmer charges me, but I don't have time to do anything. The woman picks me up and carries me back over to the horses, putting me down on my steed. I 'eep' as I'm placed on the animals, Irileth climbing onto her own steed. My partner screams, "We need to go!".

She lashes out and yanks a rope from my horse's muzzle, and ties it to the back of her saddle. The Dunmer checks to make sure I'm holding my reins, then screams as loud as she can. The horses scream and Irileth's jumps from the mountain, and mine is forced after hers due to the rope. I'm barely aware of how we make it down the mountain, but I am aware that I'm too shocked to even scream. Irileth is a skilled rider, and knows exactly where her horse should put his hoof. My horse follows suit, and the two animals work together to follow the Dunmer's commands. Irileth takes the steep side down the mountain, making sure never to let our horses fall for long enough to injure them.

When we reach the bottom Irileth yells, "They're coming from the south, so we have to go north. We'll run until the horses tire, then curve back to Whiterun at a walk. I know a secret way into the city. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. I have everything under control.". She slaps her horse on the ass, our beasts rushing away as quickly as they can. As the two horses begin running I manage to ask, "Who's coming?". Irileth doesn't answer, instead cursing and screaming, "I can already see them. We'll have to act fast. Damn it, I should have stayed with Balgruuf.".

I feel a twinge of pain at her words, but it's quickly fixed when she snorts, "No. Balgruuf can take care of himself. You never would have seen them coming. I made the right choice.". I'm not sure if I should be insulted or flattered, so I decide to go with the last one. We speed past the beautiful landscape we were watching, disturbing everything as we go. The deer sprint, the mother goat screams, and the saber cat tries to catch us. We manage to stay ahead of the cat, but the horses are on edge now. The meadow beneath us in trampled as we rush by, Irileth never stopping to give the horses a deserved rest. I occasionally turn back to look for whoever is apparently chasing us, but every time I look I only see the meadow. Whatever Irileth sees I can't.

We're running long into the night, and we don't appear to be stopping any time soon. Eventually Irileth cuts loose my horse and tells me, "You can ride beside me if you want.". I nod and take the reins back up, encouraging my horse to come up beside Irileth. When we're side by side I ask, "Who's chasing us?". The Dunmer yawns before answering, "The Stormcloaks.". I nod in understanding. I barely know who The Stormcloaks are, but I'm aware that they aren't friends of The Empire. And, Whiterun is not under Imperial or Stormcloak control. So, it makes sense that they wouldn't like Balgruuf. However, I'm confused about one thing, and decide to ask the elf about it.

"What would they do if they found us?". The woman gulps and says, "Death. Well, worse than that. A horrible death.". I can't stop myself from asking, "What kind of death?". The Dunmer sighs and answers, "They like bad and painful deaths. I'm a Dunmer, so it would be burning to death. You're a Khajiit, so it would be skinning for you.". She can hear me gulp, so the woman assures me, "That won't happen. We're going to get back to Whiterun and we're both going to be fine. Don't worry about it.". I nod and we begin riding in silent. However, my eyelids become heavy. I close my eyes and feel Irileth slowly take the reins from my hand, then she whispers, "Sleep.".

* * *

><p><strong>Balgruuf POV:<strong>

Every single citizen is rushing around the city, desperately trying to get ready in case of the siege. I say 'in case of' loosely. We all know that there's going to be one, but we refuse to accept it. Ulfric is finally marching against us, so it looks like I'm on the Imperials side. Without any of the damn Imperials here to help me fight him off. I've sent a message to Solitude, Falkreath, and Markarth, but I doubt any of them will reach us before Ulfric. The city is going to have to wait out a siege, now it just matters how long we can. I'm storming up to Dragonsreach when I realize one important detail is missing. Well, one important _person_ is missing.

A certain Dunmer who should be right at my side, screaming at random people to get random things done. I freeze and scream, "IRLIETH!". No answer, no bouncing Dunmer coming to meet me. I flip around, grab someone, and ask, "WHERE IS IRILETH?!". The man shrugs and breaks free of my grip, rushing away as quickly as humanly possible. I suddenly remember the elf went off with her lover. Oh fuck, she's still outside the city! I want so badly to rush out to find her, and return her safely to the city. But I know I can't do that. Irileth is my best friend in the entire world, but the people of the city depend on me more. The Dunmer will have to survive by herself. For now.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

The cold wind shreds our skins, and the horses are whimpering. How far north are we? Are the Stormcloaks still following us? I can't tell anymore. The blizzard came so suddenly. I was always warned to watch out for blizzards in Skyrim, but I was never one to take warnings seriously. Now it's coming back to haunt me. The maid is asleep, but I can hear her whimpering and shifting in her saddle. I promised her I would get us back to Whiterun, but now we both might just die out here. No. I _can't_ think like that. I urge our horses onward. We'll hit a city eventually, we just need to keep going and not give up. Easier said than done, especially when I hear the maid's horses whinny a noise I'm all too familiar with.

I manage to turn and grab the woman, her horse falling to the side and screaming. The Khajiit snaps awake and screams with her horse, kicking frantically as she tries to figure out what's going on. I _shush_ her and pull her close, determined to calm her down. My horse whinnies and kicks the snow, but doesn't run or try to buck me. That's good enough. The maid eventually regains her senses and stops fighting me, then allows me to pull her over into my saddle. We're positioned so she's in front of me, and I'm able to wrap my arms around her. That might help keep her warm, and allow her to go back to sleep.

However, the woman is still awake and doesn't appear to want to go back to sleep. "Where are we?". I don't see a reason to lie to her. "I have no idea, but I'm going to get is back to Whiterun.". Another strong gust of wind hits us, nearly toppling our horse. "Change of plans, I'm going to find a place for us to wait out the storm. We'll go on when the storm has died down and it's safe to continue.". She nods and huddles up against my chest, the poor Khajiit shaking like a leaf and refusing to let her vulnerability show. I take one hand off the reins and rub her shoulder as I whisper, "It's okay. It's okay. We'll be back to Dragonsreach before you know it, then everything will be okay.".

I'm not sure if the woman believes it, and I'm not even sure if I believe it. Either way, I _need_ to make it come true. I've lived through too much to die from some cold. A sudden howl draws my attention, and even our horse freezes up in terror. That wasn't the howl of a normal wolf. No, that's impossible. A werewolf can't be in this area. Then, I suddenly remember that there were reports of a werewolf harassing a military regiment coming this way. A dark shape moves in the snow, but it's not moving towards us. The monster seems to be carrying something. Probably its kill. However, the beast doesn't bother us and disappears into the snowstorm.

The horse unfreezes and I urge it forward a little. I see the beast's tracks lead to a small outcrop, protected from the elements. The monster is gone, but this still served as its lair. Even if it was for a short time, the werewolf still considered this place its territory. Am I really going to use it as a temporary resting place? My partner shivers and I quickly decide what to do. I jump off the horse and take the Khajiit in my arms, the steed whinnying and kicking at the snowy ground. I couldn't care less about the beast since we have a hundred more at the stables, so I leave him where he is while I slip into the outcrop with the maid. I look around to make sure the area is free of predators, then try to decide what to do.

What can keep the woman and me warm? I feel the weight of my dagger in my boot, see the horse slowly lie down in the snow, and I suddenly have the answer. The steed _huffs_ in greeting when he sees me, hoarfrost covering his entire body and sticking in his thick eyelashes. I pet him and slowly guide him onto his side, the faithful horse never questioning his master. I take a small piece of cloth from my pocket and lay it over his face, the horse letting me do anything to him without a fight. I pull the dagger from my boot, weight it in my hands, and contemplate if I'm really about to do what I think I'm about to do.

The Khajiit shivers even harder and I have my answer. My partner is more important to me than some horse I've only ridden for a few hours. I raise my dagger, take careful aim, and drive it into the horse's heart. My steed lets out a final whinny of confusion, then goes still. Thank the gods I hit his heart, I don't know what I would have done if he had started thrashing about and screaming. Now comes the hard part. I know how to skin a deer without suspending it, but a horse is harder. However, I _need_ to pull it off. I've already stopped shivering, and I see the Khajiit has likewise gone still. Shivering is a good sign, but when the shaking stop it's a bad sign.

_Finally_, I rip all of the skin from the steed's body. The bloody corpse might attract the werewolf back, but as long as it doesn't eat me or my partner I'm fine with it. I take the hide and run it through the snow, cleaning it of blood. When the blood is gone I shake it free of snow, the skin somehow not wet from the snow. The pelt is still warm from the horse, but not for long. I rush back to my partner, lie down beside her, and take me in her arms. Finally, I pull the skin over us as a type of blanket. The cold winds are blocked from our haven, the skin is warm, and our body heat is shared. I close my eyes as the maid and I resume shivering, both of us slowly falling asleep as the storm rages on.


	12. Mothers and Wolves

I'm slowly walking through Whiterun, the entire place a desolate ruin. The smell of sulfur and blood clogs my nose, the smoke blocking my vision. The buildings of Whiterun are ruins, every single home ransacked and burning. Bodies litter the road and I grimace at every face. I know they all personally, and seeing them dead is the last thing I want. I hear noise in the marketplace and jog up to it, the sight sickening. Stormcloak soldiers are ripping apart the citizens like wolves eating lambs, the victims consisting entirely of children. I scream for them to stop, but the Stormcloaks pay me no mind. When the kids are torn apart they all take off their helms, leaning down and feasting.

Their faces aren't familiar, but I make sure to memorize them for later. I attempt to take another step, but I find myself flat on my face. I look down and see chains tied around my feet. I curse and begin dragging myself through blood and soot, the palms of my hands turning into raw meat. My stomach and thighs don't fair much better, my armor peeling away and leaving my vulnerable flesh to slide across the ground. Splinters pierce my skin, my blood mixing with the already existing liquid. Soot and ash burn me as I crawl along the ground, my chains scratching along behind me. The Stormcloaks don't pay me any mind as I crawl by them. They're too busy eating to even feel when I brush by them.

When I reach the stairs I begin climbing them. It's harder than I ever thought it would be. Rubble, bones, and ashes make it like trying to climb a wet roof, and the chains around my legs get caught on everything. Finally, I pull myself to the top. My chains suddenly disappear, leaving me to wonder if they were even there. I stand and turn to rush back down the stairs to stop the Stormcloaks from continuing their cannibalistic feast, but a wall has formed in the archway that goes over the stairs. I bang against it a few times, but there's no use. I sigh and turn around, coming face-to-face with a werewolf. I fumble for my sword and pull out my weapon, but the blade isn't my usually weapon.

The sword's pommel is stone, and the blade is made of yellow bones. The bones are tied together with sinew, and the weapon looks like it'll burst apart with one hit. However, I never get the chance the strike the werewolf. It turns around and rushes up the steps to Jorrvaskr. I rush up after it, the beast leading me to the home of The Companions. I slam against the door, but it's locked up tight. I curse and turn around, prowling back to the area where the Gildergreen is. The path to Dragonsreach is cleared, so I decide to go up there next. The doors are gone and the fire inside the hall is out, but I still want to explore the area. What I find causes my stomach to turn.

The tables are packed with nobles from every part of Skyrim, each of them with something wrong. Maven Black-Briar has half of her skull hanging off of her neck, Laila Law-Giver is ripped open from hip to shoulder, and Balgruuf is almost roasted beyond recognition. I slowly enter the room of deceased Jarls, trying not to gag at the feast set before them. Fulled formed duck embryos boiled alive, rotten cheese made of sheep's milk, a marmot cooked in its own skin, fried auks in a rotten seal's belly, eggs that have been fermented in ash and cow shit, fried tarantulas, smoked sheep heads, boiled pig blood with bread, a soup of cows' feet and goats' stomachs, live octopuses flailing about in a sauce of crow blood, ox penises, and dog blood pancakes.

I move deeper in the building, and see that the walls match the dinner. Mold creeps along the rotten wood, splatters of blood decorating the place. Spiders scurry across the blood slick floor, hissing and jumping about. I gag and move faster, determined to see the throne. I freeze when I see Ulfric sitting there, but something is horribly wrong. A bear's head is sewn onto his neck, the man's robes stained with his own blood. His one dead eye rolls around in his skull, the other one busy being eaten by a tarantula. His eye finally stops and swivels around, locking onto me.

The bear smiles and gurgles something in a broken language I have no hope of understanding. "˙noʎ ǝʇnlɐs I ˙ǝuop llǝʍ uǝɥʇ '(ʎllɐɹnʇɐu tᴉ pɐǝɹ ʇsnɾ uɐɔ ɹo) sᴉɥʇ pɐǝɹ oʇ ʍoɥ ʇno punoɟ ǝʌ,noʎ ɟᴉ 'osl∀ ¡ɐɥ ɐɥ ʍɐq ˙sǝuoq uo ǝʞoɥɔ oʇ ʇuɐʍ ʇ,uop I 'ǝuop llǝʍ sᴉ ǝɹoɥʍ ɹǝɥ ǝɹns ǝʞɐW ˙ǝɔuǝᴉpǝqosᴉp ɹǝɥ ɹoɟ ɹǝɟɟns ɹǝɯunp pǝuɯɐp sᴉɥʇ ǝǝs oʇ ɥsᴉʍ I 'ʎɐʍʎu∀ ¡ɐH ¡ǝsɹnoɔ pI∀W 'ʎɐs I plnoɥs ɹO ¡ǝsɹnoɔ uᴉɐɯ ǝɥʇ ʇno ƃuᴉɹq". Two servers move away and disappear into the kitchen. Panic rises in my chest and I demand, "What did he say?!". When nobody answers I repeat the question, but I'm only met with silence. The servers return, carrying a gigantic stew pot on their shoulders.

They place it in front of Ulfric, the broken man shakily standing up and stumbling over to the pot. He hops up and dips his mangled hand into the stew, pulling out a familiar skull. Fianna's eyes look at nothing, her flesh slouching off her bone as the bear opens his gigantic maw. His fangs sink into the old maid and pull away, chunky blood flowing out from between Ulfric's teeth and _splashing_ in the water. I lean over and empty my stomach. When I'm done an odd noise gets my attention. I stand up and beginning walking through the building, the condition of the place **never** improving in the slightest. I finally find out where the noise is coming from, and I nearly charge in screaming.

The noise is coming from my own damned room. I open the door and prepare to scream, but freeze at the sight before me. My naked maid is being held down on the bed by another naked Khajiit, this one only half her size. The small Khajiit looks up at me, her teeth bared as she hisses. The woman is sleek and slender, her light silver-gray pelt shining in the torchlight. Bluish and black stripes cover her body, and her nose is a small dab of coal. The Khajiit has a finely shaped head, and from here I can see her fur is soft, thick, and incredibly glossy. Her unusually long black claws are digging into my partner's back, and her bright blue eyes are glaring holes into me.

Something inside my mind clicks when I see her pelt brush against my partner's, the comparison just suddenly occurring to me. The small Khajiit looks like she could be my maid's sister. Or mother. The grey streaks peaking in her fur tell me which answer is right. I shake my head and take in the entire scene. My maid is still pressed against the bed, but I notice the details I was ignoring beforehand. The maid's wrists are shattered, her knees are broken, her mouth is sewn shut, her eyes are gorged out, her back is scratched to shreds, and even now she's fighting to push her mother away and stand. The woman turns her head to me, and I see bloody tears rolling down her cheeks as she struggles to speak.

Her mother's claws extend even further, digging into her daughter's back as she hisses in a surprisingly light voice, "Hush now, enough out of you.". I try to take a step forward, but my feet are frozen to the ground. The maid's mother looks over at me and sneers, revealing her white fangs as she hisses, "_See what you've done to my beautiful baby?!_". I swallow and manage to say, "I didn't do _anything_ to her. _You're_ the one that threw her out and ruined her life.". The woman throws her head back, maniacally laughs, and questions, "You actually believe her?! You think a mother would throw her own daughter out purely because she saw her in bed with another woman?!".

When I nod the woman laughs again. "Fool! You know you're lying to yourself. It's never that simple. You KNOW that. You might not want to admit it to yourself, but you do.". I shake my head, manage to take a single step forward, and tell her, "It _is_ that simple, now leave. You're unwelcome here.". My maid's mother hums, then answers, "No, I don't think so.". She leans down and does something that sends a shiver up by spine. The tiny Khajiit brings her tongue out, licking up the length of her daughter's neck. The maid stiffens, then begins fighting even harder. A deep wail comes from her closed off throat, bloody tears flowing down her face like two rivers.

I try to put my other foot forward, but it doesn't work. The smaller Khajiit pulls her daughter further onto the bed, forcing her hips in between my maid's legs. One of her hands keeps the bigger Khajiit pinned, but her other hand comes down and forces itself between my maid's legs. Another deep cry comes from the woman's throat, but the small Khajiit leans forward and whispers to her. "Hush baby. Mommy's got you now. You'll be fine, just let mama take care of you.". The mother's hand begins to move, and disgusting squishing sounds tell me she's successfully fucking her own daughter. I feel vomit fill my mouth and lean over to the side, emptying my stomach as I watch the incestuous rape.

My maid is screaming, her mouth tearing and slightly ripping apart at the seams. Blood gushes from the opening mouth, staining my bed as the red liquid is soaked up. I finally manage to get my feet to move, and charge over to help my maid. I try to slam into her mother and knock her off the maid, but the woman is like a stone statue. All I manage to do is hurt my elbow by slamming into her, and the Khajiit lets out a maniacal laugh as she picks up her speed. I grab onto my maid's hands, yanking and trying to get her out from under her mother. Blood streams out of her every orifice as my attempts prove futile, the wind beginning to scream from some unseen location.

* * *

><p>I'm woken up by the maid shaking me, a concerned look on her face. I sit up and mumble, "What?". The Khajiit sits up beside me and explains, "You were panicking in your sleep. You even talked. Something about gross food and your mother.". My dream comes rushing back and I scrabble out of our shelter, vomiting at the image of my maid's mother fucking her. The storm is over, but I hardly notice as I shake and look at my own vomit. The Khajiit comes over and rubs my shoulder. I take her hand and lead her back to the shelter. I cuddle up beside her and mumble, "We'll head back in an hour. Just give me a bit.". The woman nods and we both go silent. The Khajiit falls asleep again, but I can't. Not after my dream. Not after what I've seen. I'll stay awake for as long as possible. I don't want to go to sleep until absolutely necessary. Or maybe never. Definitely never.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Note: For those unfamiliar with my usual 'nightmare' chapters I usually cram into every story, this was indeed just a nightmare playing out in Irileth's mind (besides the last paragraph). Don't worry, this chapter serves a purpose. It's mostly just for me to chuckle as I write down hidden meanings into what happens later in the story, but it also serves a larger purpose. Trust me, it'll come together soon enough. And, if you aren't aware of my 'dark' chapters (which make their way into 99.9% of my stories) don't worry, it'll be one of few in this particular work.<strong>

**Now, onto another matter. Atraxotax and I were having a friendly discussion about what would happen if the Dovahkiin was to die, and we'd enjoy some other opinions on the discussion. In Atraxotax's own words, '****Supposedly, the Dragonborn does EVERY single quest in the game Skyrim. Similar to how every Assassin from every Assassins' Creed game supposedly completes every single side objective and quest in the game as "canon".'. And, 'So… what would happen upon his death? Would the Daedric Princes fight each other for the right of claiming the Dragonborns' soul to their Planes' of Oblivion? Would the heroes of Sovngarde come forth and, in turn, fight to have the Dragonborn live in Sovngarde? Would Akatosh, father to all Dragons, use his Divine powers to spare the Dovahkiin of BOTH of those fates?'. I myself will share my opinion on the matter in the next chapter or two if the circumstances are right. Until then, feel free to tell me your own opinions and what you believe would happen through PM, review, or any other source.**


	13. Desolation

When the maid wakes up it's in a violent spasm, and the woman begins fighting to get out of my grasp. I release her without hesitation, but my partner calms down when she realizes what's going on. I rub her back and ask, "What's wrong?". She climbs back into my arms and explains, "I woke up and forgot where we were and what was going on. I was just a little shocked.". I nod and tell her, "We need to go.". She agrees, "We definitely need to get going.". Nobody moves. However, a howling wind from the north makes us reconsider. I force myself up and crawl from the hiding place, the maid right behind me. Our horse is a foot away from us, his corpse frozen to the ground.

I instinctively draw my sword and stumble over to him, hacking away at the body until I have a good hunk of meat. I store the food and turn back around, the Khajiit already waiting for me. She's shivering and curled in on herself, the woman's beautiful fur tangled and matted. I walk over and put one arm around her as I assure my partner, "We'll get back to Whiterun before you know it, and then we'll be able to clean ourselves up and take a break.". The woman is silent as we begin walking, the ice and snow _crunching_ beneath our leather boots. The world around us is dead. It appears even the creatures of Skyrim are awed by nature's cold fury.

I'm thankful Balgruuf made me take a class on surviving in the wild and how to tell where you're going. This is the first time it's even proven itself useful, but this is the one time I've used it and it's about to save my life. I use the pale sun to tell where we're going, guess about the rough place we are on a map of Skyrim, and begin heading in the direction I believe Whiterun to be. If I'm lucky we'll be back before sunrise or sunset, and if I'm unlucky we'll end up in Morthal. We enter a small stretch of forest and instantly stop, the sight before us highly concerning. Three wolves are huddled together, snow blanketing the area around them. I start to draw my sword for a fight, but the Khajiit shakes her head and puts her hand on my wrist.

The woman disentangles herself from me and walks up to the beast, sharply kicking one in the head. A _dink_ is the only response out of the creatures. However, my partner curses and shakes her foot. She walks back to me, tangles herself back up in my arm, and explains, "There's no need to fight something that's already dead.". I nod in understanding and put my sword back, the Khajiit and I resuming our walk to Whiterun. As we go I look over at the Khajiit, her gentle face once again reminding me why I decided to take her as a partner. But there's something wrong. I can't get the image of the Khajiit getting raped by her mother out of my mind.

And, I know I'm being silly. I've never seen her mother, and I'm certain the Khajiit's mother wouldn't want to rape her own daughter. Hopefully. I need to put my fear to rest, but how? I come up with a quick plan and ask the Khajiit, "Would you like to play a traveling game?". She shrugs and I tell her, "Good. I'll describe a person in detail, then you tell me who you think it is. Can you do that?". She nods, but says, "I don't know a lot of people in Skyrim.". I pat her shoulder and assure her, "You'll know this person.". Although I pray she doesn't. "This woman is a Khajiit. She's sleek and slender, and she has a light silver-gray pelt. Bluish and black stripes cover her body, and her nose is a small dab of black.".

"Like a glob of coal. She has a finely shaped head, and her fur is soft, thick, and incredibly glossy. She has unusually long black claws, and bright blue eyes. I'm guessing she's about forty or so. Can you guess who it is?". I look over and see my partner giving me a death glare as she hisses, "_Not_ funny.". Damn. I think I already know what she's going to say, but I go ahead and ask, "What?". She doesn't pull away from me, but her face suddenly takes on a hurt look as she huffs, "You just perfectly described the same bitch of a woman who threw me out of the only home I'd ever known.".

I inwardly scream and say, "Your mother.". She nods and agrees, "My mother.". Her tail is swishing back and forth as she questions, "How in oblivion did you know what my mother looks like? Is that in that little book of yours? And, why on earth are you reminding me of that bitch?". Because I had a dream she raped you and I wanted to find out in there was anything true about that dream. "I saw her described in that file I had on you, but there were two contradicting reports. I needed to know what your mother looked like in case she ever came to try to reclaim you. You're an adult by law, but it could still be done is certain circumstances. I just wanted to be safe.".

She's calmed down significantly and coolly replies, "Okay, I suppose I can understand that. Just, will you please ask me a question next time? You don't need to hide behind a game of 'guess who' to get a response out of me.". I nod and apologize, my mind racing. How in oblivion did I know what her mother looked like? Is my mind a lot smarter than I ever thought, and I just pieced together what the woman would look like? Or is there another meaning behind it? I pray to ever deity I know that it's the first. However, I don't have long to pray. We reach Whiterun incredibly quick, and we can both tell something is wrong. Smoke is rising from the city. The Stormcloaks have arrived.

* * *

><p><strong>Jarl Balgruuf POV:<strong>

I slowly walking through the city I swore to lead, the entire place a desolate ruin. The smell of sulfur and blood clogs my nose, the smoke from our fires blocking my vision. The buildings of Whiterun are ruins, every single home ransacked and burning. Damn the Stormcloaks. It's a miracle we were able to get the citizens up to the keep, and even then there still wasn't enough time for everyone. Bodies litter the road and I grimace at every face that looks up at me. Accusing me of causing their death. Which I suppose I did. I know every single body personally, and seeing them dead is the last thing I want. I hear noise in the marketplace and jog up to it, the sight before me more pleasing than I ever thought it would be.

Stormcloak soldiers are having necklaces of rope fitted on them by my men, the hangman's fall already set up behind them. Orphaned and wounded children surround them, screaming out for blood. I scream for them to stop, but the guards pay me no mind. I storm over and slap a guard's hand away, tightening the rope myself. I failed to kill these men in battle, so the least I can do is execute them properly. If I have the right to say these soldiers should die, then they deserve to have me do it.

The Stormcloak's faces aren't familiar, but I make sure to memorize them for later. I'm certain I'll be having nightmares about them, so I may as well get their faces right. When all the soldiers are outfitted I stand back and scream, "Let these murderers swing!". My guards gleefully respond, dragging the screaming men and women to the hangman's bridge. The children and I howl in joy as they're forced to the top of the steps. I take a deep breath of air and roar, "ONE! TWO! THREE!". My guards push the Stormcloaks off, multiple _cracks_ ringing throughout the air. The ones who went _crack_ are considered lucky. Two of their bodies fall to the ground with a _rip_, their heads still stuck in the noose.

Decapitation is a messy way to go, but it's still a way to go. Three others don't _crack_ or _rip_, the soldiers forced to kick and gasp as they're strangled to death. The children and I scream in joy, the soldiers slowly strangled to death as their eyes flicker around the crowd. If they're looking for someone to help them, then they're going to be looking until their soul goes to oblivion. Finally, all of the Stormcloaks are dead. Some of them weren't killed in the intended way, but dead is still dead as far as I'm concerned. And, I'm the only one who truly matters in this instance.

I share one last howl with the children, then turn and begin walking away. My feet _splash_ through blood and soot, the disgusting mixture promising to stain my clothes and ruin my shoes. A gust of cold wind suddenly whips up the air, and sends a puff of dust and ash flying into my face. I curse and splutter until my mouth is free of the taste, then resume my walk through my destroyed city. The people and guards say we won this battle, but I'm not so certain. Does a victory really look like this? Dead citizens, dead guards, burnt buildings, and hung enemies? I always thought victory was drinking and dancing, not burying the dead and hanging the surviving Stormcloaks.

A jagged splinter suddenly pierces my boot and cuts my foot, my blood mixing with the already existing liquid. That cut reminds me how dangerous this place is now, and how long the cleaning up is going to take. Soot and ash begin to dance in the air as the cold wind from the north picks up. We'll be lucky if this placed is cleaned up before winter strikes. More Stormcloaks are being executed by Jorrvaskr in the worst way. They're being fed to starving dogs, and the hounds are taking a while to tear them apart. I don't pay them any mind. The Stormcloaks deserve to die, and The Companions can execute them how they see fit.

When I reach the stairs to Dragonsreach I begin climbing them. Rubble, bones, and ashes make it like trying to climb a wet roof, and my boots are slippery with my own blood. I force myself to stay calm and walk with dignity. The citizens need to see a strong Jarl. It's already bad enough I'm sweating and my beard is tangled, they don't need to see me fall down stairs. Finally, I reach the top of the giant staircase. Advisers and warriors and waiting for me, but I blow them all off and go and sit in my throne. I wave at a serving girl and demand, "Meat and beer.". She rushes off and returns in an instant, bringing me half a pig and a tremendous mug of beer.

I start chugging the liquid, but put it down long enough to snarl, "Where's the other half of the damned pig?". She slinks away and brings me the full meal, then makes herself scarce. Smart woman. I look around the room and try to decide if there's a woman I wish to bed. I see a whore over in the corner with thick lips meant for sucking cocks. I make a mental note of getting her name eventually. A voice suddenly pipes up, "I wouldn't eat another bite of that pig. It might make you fat.". A brief pause. "Too late.". I turn around in a fury that's instantly doused when I see who's standing before me. Ice is in her hair, her war paint is smeared, and her armor is scratched, but I can tell who it is. Irileth. Thank the gods.


	14. A Glimpse Into a Haunted Past

**Irileth POV:**

The Jarl stands and laughs, drunkenly stumbling down to me. I smell him before he manages to wrap his arms around me, but by then it's too late to back away and retreat. The foul smell of beer and sweat washes over me and I hold my breath, vomit threatening to burst out from my stomach. When the man releases me I take a single step back, but that's all. I don't want to offend my friend. I look down at my armor and see a smear of tangy sauce on it. I look up to see my friend brought a chunk of the pig with him. I roll my eyes and repeat, "I _really_ won't eat another bite if I was you.". Balgruuf shrugs and throws the meat into his mouth, happily munching on the flesh while his beard becomes even dirtier.

When he's swallowed the animal's meat he slaps my shoulder and says, "Irileth! It's good to see you again! Where's that little maid of yours?". I motion into the crowd, the maid trapped near the front of it. Balgruuf offers her a small wave before turning his attention to me and commanding, "We need to speak of what to do next. Care to gather the important people and meet me in my chambers?". I've barely gotten home, but he's already asking me to work. Oh well, some things will _never_ change. I nod in agreement. "Just give me a few moments to gather myself and take the maid to my room, then I'll meet you.".

Jarl Balgruuf laughs and orders another beer. I sigh and turn around, my partner shying away from the crowd. I gently take her hand and lead her away from the intimidating environment. When we're in my room we both change into fancy robes and regular shoes. The Khajiit stands beside the door and shifts from foot to foot. "What do you want me to do?". Before I can answer, a guard sticks his head in the door and announces, "Jarl Balgruuf the Greater has demanded the meeting be moved to tomorrow.". I sigh and ask, "Did he then walk off with a whore on his arm and a beer in his hand?". The guard nods and quickly makes himself scarce.

I turn back to the Khajiit and consider what to do. I also remember what happened on our way up to Dragonsreach. I was prepared for the wreckage and carnage that was Whiterun, but the farm-raised woman wasn't. I'd expected her to have at least a _little_ experience with bodies (slaughtering cows and whatnot), but she was horrified. She even had to take a moment to catch her breath to prevent herself from vomiting. I suppose cows and people are different, but her reaction still came as a shock to me. And, I know what happens to people like her. They see the carnage and it sticks with them. Haunts them. Chases them down and forces them to replay the images in their mind again and again.

I know what that's like. After my first battle it haunted me for months, then the second battle happened. And the third. And the fourth. By the fifth I no longer cared, an animal that simply attacked wherever the general pointed. However, there was something far worse than killing a fighting man. Seeing the destruction you bring to his home. The slayed daughters, slaughtered women, slashed men, broken sons, dead elders, and cold babies that litter the streets. The homes and businesses that are gutted like fish, their insides strewn out across the city. You may not have done a single bit of damage or killed a single man, but you might as well have.

You cut down those men and women sworn to protect the city, and left the place open for rapist, murderers, bandits, and worse. But you get over it. You get up and move on and never think of what you've done. Everything gets easier if you can just pretend that the people don't exist. That they didn't have hopes and dreams, that they didn't aspire to be something. And, that you've now brought them the worst thing in the world. A death that leads to an unmarked grave with thousands of their brethren. There are few ways to shake that out of your head. Drinking, fucking, and fighting are the most successful. Or you can do what I do. Treat them like cows, then it's like you didn't gut a living person.

But the Khajiit doesn't think like me, and I know she never will. The woman doesn't have the mind of the warrior. But if she isn't a warrior, then what is she? 'Servant' would be the most obvious choice, but there's something not quite right with that. She takes pride in her work, but she doesn't particularly jump for joy when she's told to do something. Although I doubt _any_ maid does. She's dutiful in her duties, and seems headstrong. In some cases that's good, but not in this one. The image probably burned itself into her brain even harder, and it'll take even more to shake it off. A sudden idea hits me like a slap to the face. I remember when we gazed out at the infinite cosmos together, and peered into the edges of the universe.

She admired the view as equally as me, and even commented on how beautiful the view was. Some part of her is an artisan. Even if it's buried beneath thousands of other qualities, it's _still_ there. I need to take her somewhere beautiful, and talk to her. That'll get her mind off of this for sure. I rub the woman's shoulder and tell her, "Come with me. I'll pack us a dinner and we can go to the top of Dragonsreach. I know where the best view is.". She nods her head and I take her hand, leading her into the kitchens. The cooks aren't busy, and I manage to snatch some food from them without trouble.

The Khajiit takes my hand and I lead her to the highest point of Dragonsreach, turning the woman towards the area that isn't destroyed. I scrabble up the roof and offer the Khajiit my hand. She slowly makes her way up beside me, grabbing my arm for support. I gently lead her to the flat area of the roof, then lie down. My partner copies my movements. When we're both settled I reach into the sack, yank a bottle of mead out, and pass it to the Khajiit. As she drinks her alcohol I pull out a bottle of wine for myself, and join her. We spend the next few minutes nibbling on crunchy bread, gnawing on juicy oranges, and biting crisp cheeses. When the food is gone we both sigh, relaxing and enjoying the view of the dimming sky.

I reach over and take the Khajiit's hand. I run my thumb over her knuckles as I ask, "What was it like to grow up on a farm?". She takes a moment to think, then answers. "It's fun. At times.". I keep rubbing as I ask, "How so?". She shrugs. "It's nice to spend so much time at home with your family, and getting to see all the little animals grow up. But it's horrible working in the fields, and eventually you have to slaughter the animals you helped birth.". It's interesting learning about the woman's life, but I have a specific direction in mind. "You said you liked spending time with your family.".

She agrees, "I did say that.". I take a chance and ask, "Were you particularly close to anyone?". She nods and answers, "My second oldest brother, my oldest sister, and my mother.". I take another risk. "Do you keep in touch with any of them?". She shakes her head and explains, "Too dangerous. My mother doesn't know where I am or what I'm doing, and I like it that way.". When the silence stretches on for too long I take the biggest risk so far. "Why is it dangerous for your mother to know where you are? Why do you not want her to know where you are? What if she decided to accept your choice of who you took to bed, and wanted to come apologize?".

A mocking laugh boils from the Khajiit's throat and I freeze up. I've _never_ heard her laugh like that, and it's such a dark sound coming from the woman's throat. When she's calmed down she scoffs, "My mother would _never_ change her mind. And, even if she did there are more... complex reasons I left.". I decide to put all my cards on the table. "Do you trust me enough to tell me those complex reasons?". She goes silent. "Yes.". Another silence. "Will you?". The Khajiit nods, and I allow her to gather her thoughts and courage. "My mother and I were close when I was little more than a babe, but things change. Papa got sick and couldn't work as hard, and my siblings got out of hand.".

"Well, most of us. I was too young to really stand up against her. I was at the tender age where dad's the strongest man in the world, and mom's the best person who ever lived. She might not have been able to keep my siblings in line, but she had me right under her thumb. And, I suppose that made me her favorite. My mother liked having control over people, and I was too stupid to realize what she was doing. When papa got better all of us fell back into line, but I remained my mother's favorite. I was the first to get supper, the last one to be woken up, and I always got assigned the easiest chores. My siblings brushed if off and claimed it was because I was the youngest, but my mother always whispered in my ear it was because I was 'mama's special little baby girl'.".

The way she says it gets me on edge, and I can tell it has a darker meaning behind it. I _know_ it would have a darker meaning if _my_ mother said it to me. "When I was old enough to do the hard work my mother still shielded me from the hardest chores, and my father never once questioned it. I still had to do some hard work, but more often than not I had free time. My mother made me spend it with her. Everything was fine in my eyes. My father occasionally talked to me and asked if I thought I was too close to my mother. I always said 'no'.".

"He wasn't the only one to ask. My siblings, friends, and a few of my friends' parents asked if I ever thought my mother and I were too close. I always answered 'no'.". I interrupt by asking, "How old were you at this point?". She easily replies, "I was eight.". I send a silent prayer to every god I know that I'm wrong. That the woman simply says her mother and her disagreed with one another and that's why she left. But I know I'm right. Some sick, twisted woman in Hammerfell fucked her eight-year old daughter. The poor maid was just a child. Her cunt was purely for pissing, her chest was as flat as a board, and she didn't even have the coordination to do any important things.

Yet her mother used her like she was a whore, then rejected her when her daughter found someone worthy of her affection. I can't even begin to imagine the effect that would have on a child. How long did it go on? Did anyone find out? I'm getting ahead of myself. There's still a slim chance I'm wrong. "So, what happened after that?". It's like a cold northern wind has washed over us when she says, "I'm sorry, but I just-". She takes a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry. Maybe another time.". I nod and we fall silent. "So, I've told you about me. Will you tell me about you?". I chuckle. "It's boring.". She shrugs. "I don't mind". I nod, and begin my tale.

* * *

><p><strong>Note: None of my stories are ending any time soon, but I'd like a little advice on something. When I'm down to a single story I'll obviously write another one, but I want to go something different this time. I want to go beyond Skyrim (although I'll always have one story set in Skyrim at any given time). I'm going to open some polls eventually that'll be open for weeks, but right now I just want reviews and PMs for a few ideas. If you want to, then just tell me what you think I should do. It can be something within TES, something beyond that, or you could even tell me to stay within Skyrim. It's pretty obvious I'm going to choose something I'm familiar with, but it could be anything. That's it.<strong>


	15. A Surprise in a Basket

"I have absolutely no idea where I was born, but I know that I grew up in Whiterun. My father would only tell me vague tales about my mother. From what I've gathered she was a whore in a Morrowind military settlement down in Elsweyr. My father never felt the need to talk about her, and I never felt the need to know. If I meant so little to the woman that she handed me over to a client, then she means even less to me. My father always told me I was being selfish. He kept telling me I should consider myself lucky, and that my mother loved me. He always went on about how she could have had me removed, or handed me over to some random stranger instead of my father.".

I scoff. "She handed me over to him because of how the Dumner people would have looked at her. We were completely okay with enslaving people, but gods forbid someone else raise your child. Anyway, I suppose I've gone on about my parents enough. When I was a child it wasn't particularly _fun_ growing up. Begin a Dunmer in a mostly Nord settlement was a nightmare, and all the other children found excuses not to play with me. Well, almost all of them. One boy a few years younger than me overheard his parents calling me and my father 'invaders', and decided he would make his family proud by getting rid of the 'invaders'.".

"Keep in mind, we were only children. Balgruuf decided to get rid of me in what he considered the most 'violent' way. But he wanted to be honorable. And, by honorable I mean he wanted to publicly shame me. He gathered a bunch of kids, gave me a wooden sword, pulled out an iron dagger, and told me to fight him.". I smile at the memory. "I kicked his ass until he went wailing back to his father. Balgruuf's father had a few _choice_ words for my own, but he was more upset at his son than anything. He was humiliated that his son got his ass handed to him by a female Dunmer. So, he started 'training' his son to take me on. I kicked his ass again. And again. And again.".

"But then something changed. My father was disappointed in me after every fight, but a stern lecture was all I got. And, the lecture was mostly about not fighting. But Balgruuf's father would always snarl and growl at him, at times even going as far as smacking his son around to 'encourage' him to get better. And, his father did it because he kept losing. I saw what was going on, and decided to do something about it. I let Balgruuf win the next fight. I fought back enough to make it look real, but still solidly got my ass handed to me. Balgruuf's father praised him and handed his little boy a bottle of mead, and mine patted me on the head and told me he knew what I did.".

"And, so did Balgruuf. The boy was the head Nord before I beat him, and he'd earned back their fickle respect by beating me. He knew he owed me, and the boy hated owing people. He still does. Anyway, I didn't have any problems with Nords anymore. Eventually Balgruuf even invited me to play with him, although that was only because one of his friends was sick. But it quickly became clear I was fun to hang around, and Balgruuf and I slowly started spending more and more of our childhood together. My teenage years were spent training, spending time with Balgruuf, and drinking until my mind was mush. Then, the battles started.".

"Balgruuf yearned to fight, and he yanked me along with him. We killed hundreds of Brigands, criminals, and anyone else who was foolish enough to face us. When I was around your age-". I take a moment to consider that. The Khajiit is a bit younger than me, but it still feels weird to say 'when I was your age'. I stop thinking and resume speaking. "Balgruuf's uncle died, and Balgruuf's father took the seat. He didn't last very long. He liked drinking and whoring more than his duties, and made it a habit to piss off as many people as he could. It wasn't long before a dagger was slipped in his side. His son grieved for a short while, then went on and took his place.".

"Balgruuf and I had a long forged battle-bond, and I demanded he make me his housecarl. He agreed.". I let out a small chuckle. "Then, I spent years attempting to guard a man who didn't want to be guarded. The war came and went, but both Balgruuf and I were personally untouched. Now we're here.". A thought crosses my mind and I ask, "What was the war like for you?". The woman edges a little closer to me and says, "Wonderful. Nobody in my family had to fight, and the price for food was higher than ever. And, the price for cattle was absolutely absurd. But people paid it, and my family lived comfortably for a few months.".

When silence begins to take over the space I fill it. "A few months. So, it didn't last?". She nods. "It lasted hardly two months. Running a farm costs a lot of money, and skooma addicts cost even more.". I reach over and take her hand, both of us silently moving closer to one another. It's odd to talk about myself, but it's also kind of nice. And, it was definitely nice learning about the woman. Besides, we've both shown a gigantic amount of trust in one another. Now we get to just enjoy a quite moment together, uninterrupted by anyone. However, the peace doesn't last for very long. A guard finds us, clear his throat, and announces, "We need your files on the dead citizens of Whiterun.".

I sigh and stand up, the maid following my lead. I knew this was coming, but I still pushed it to the back of my mind. Farengar needs the files on any civilian casualties in the battle, so he can write pity letters to their next of kin. I take the guard and Khajiit back to my room, and begin pulling out files on my desk. The man hands me a list of who's dead. I move the maid's file off to the side (I never put it up), and begin stacking the dead citizen's files beside them. I put the live citizens into another pile, and make sure to put the dead citizens who didn't die of war in a third pile. I don't want to send some mother a report telling her that her son died in a war, when he's already been dead for three months.

When everything is sorted I scoop up the messy pile of dead citizens, hand it to the guard, and command, "Go and give them to Farengar, he'll write the letters to the family of the dead citizens.". He nods and rushes away, leaving the maid and I alone. She slinks behind me and begins massaging my shoulders. My nature takes over and I instantly tense up, but I somehow manage to force myself to relax as her fingers work against my shoulders. Within a few seconds I'm sighing in pleasure, freely allowing the woman to work against my fancy robes. The moment is interrupted by the same guard returning. "I've delivered the files.". He's intruded on a rather pleasant moment between the maid and I, and I can't stop my anger from showing. "Congratulations, do you want a pat on the head?".

The man sheepishly mumbles and leaves, shutting the door behind him. I flip around to my partner and capture her lips in a kiss. The Khjiit helps me up and guides me over to the bed, locking the door on her way. The soft comforter yields beneath us as we fall into it. Our kiss becomes slightly more passionate, but never goes too far that we feel the need to stop. I manage to kick our blanket up over us, and we both snuggle down together as we're warmed up. Winter will come soon enough, so I suppose we should enjoy right now. I slowly bring a hand up beneath the woman's shirt, resting my fingers along her stomach. The Khajiit sighs in my mouth, her tail coming to wrap around us.

I smile and dare to bring my hand higher, and feel the woman's breast bindings beneath the tips of my fingers. I pull back, kiss her forehead, and ask, "May I?". She nods and reaches underneath her shirt, our fingers brushing as she undoes her breast binding. I smile and go back to kissing her, but my hand is already at work. I gently cup her tit and gently run my thumb along her nipple, but _just_ enough to tease her. We both just enjoy ourselves for quite a bit, but neither of us try to initiate anything further. Probably for the best, I don't think either of us are _truly_ ready for bringing sex into the relationship. Eventually the Khajiit pulls back and mumbles something about going to sleep. I agree and snuggle up with her, allowing her gentle heartbeat thumping against mine to lull me into sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Balgruuf POV:<strong>

The whore beneath me long ago stopped making noise and writhing in fake ecstasy, and I can't say I blame her. A woman can only take so much before she gets tired of pretending to enjoy something. I'll have to throw in a little extra gold to her. She's not particularly spectacular in bed, but I've had worse experiences in these situations. One even gave me a black eye when I 'took too long'. Soon enough my mental ramblings are cut off as my hips piston in rapid succession, and I let out a groan like a dying cow as I reach my crescendo of pleasure. I finally roll off the woman and reach over to my nightstand, grabbing the beer beside me and chugging it in one gulp.

The woman grumbles as she wipes my seed from her cunt, then gets up and proceeds to get dressed. I pay her and the woman leaves as quickly as she can, my coin jingling in her pocket. I heave myself up and grab a cloth, wiping the sweat off my body and a little bit of my own seed from the tip of my cock. I manage to stumble over to my mirror, taking in the sight before me. A fat, sweaty, drunken, filthy man with a tangled beard looks back at me. I sigh and hear footsteps behind me. I turn and see a guard walk in. He splutters at the sight of his naked Jarl, then composes himself and announces, "A visitor for you.". I grumble, "Female?". He nods and I chuckle before saying, "Bring her in, I'll change into my best robes while I wait.".

The woman he walks in looks surprisingly familiar, and a stone sinks in my stomach. She's another whore, but one I haven't seen in a while. The last I saw her was in Solitude when I was visiting the now dead King. The woman sits down across from me, a basket beside her. We both remain silent, so I decide to start the conversation. I clear my throat and say, "Betma.". I was rather fond of her, and even bothered to learn her name. The woman nods and answers, "Balgruuf.". I awkwardly rub my thighs and tell her, "I'm sorry if you came looking for work, but I'm rather fulfilled at the moment.". She shakes her head and tells me, "I'm not looking for work.".

I cock my head in real surprise. Why would she not be looking for work? Why else would a whore show up at my doorstep? I ask her just that. The woman sneers and passes the basket to me. I open it and nearly drop it in surprise. A fat-faced babe is looking up at me, his blue eyes examining my face. I reach down and brush his blond hair off of his milky skin. I consider looking up and denying the bastard is mine, but I know it won't do any good. He looks just like the man who fathered him. Fear suddenly grips my heart, but not because of the fact I'm the father to a whore's bastard. Fear is in my heart because of one woman and one woman alone. Irileth.


	16. Dead Letters

Irileth is sitting across from me with her little maid, a feast fit for a king separating us. The Khajiit is happily cutting into a steak, completely unaware of the tension in the air. I deeply hope Irileth has gotten fucked recently. People who have recently had sex tend to take bad news better. But judging by Irileth's annoyed expression and the Khajiit's neat robes, I'm guessing the two haven't recently been making the beast with two backs. The basket by my foot twitches, and I send a silent prayer to the gods that the babe doesn't start crying for milk. His mother left me about an hour ago, but not before giving me two one-finger salutes (one with each hand) and questioning my birth.

And, I doubt Irileth or the maid are dripping with excess milk for the child to drink. Although I doubt they would allow the babe to suckle, even if they _did_ have any milk to spare. The maid clears her throat and quietly says, "Thank you for the meal.". Well, at least she has outstanding manners. However, the Dunmer sitting next to her turns and says, "Don't thank him. He's done something wrong.". The maid looks at her mistress and questions, "How do you know that?". My friend turns back and explains, "This is what he _always_ does when something goes wrong.". She practically sneers at me as she asks, "So, what did you do wrong _this_ time?".

I decide to bite the arrow and get it over with. I pick up the basket and push it towards the women, both of them having different reactions. The Khajiit pops another chunk of steak in her mouth, not the slightest bit concerned. But Irileth freezes up and hisses, "I'd better be wrong about what's in the basket.". The maid turns to Irileth and asks, "Cookies?". The Dunmer shakes her head and says, "I don't think so, but it _better_ be cookies.". I stay silent as my friend reaches out, opening the basket. The Khajiit's tail comes up and she excitedly coos, "A baby!". My friend grinds her teeth. "Yours?". When I nod the Dunmer stands and commands both of us, "Wait here.".

I nod and the maid reaches into my basket. Irileth leaves and the Khajiit looks over to me. "May I hold him?". I don't see the harm and tell her, "Go ahead, just don't drop him.". The maid instantly perks up and takes my child out of his basket, cooing over him and neatly combing his hair with her claws. My babe was whimpering when he was taken out, but quiets down as the Khajiit works on him. He may only be a few days old, but he's smart enough to realize where his milk comes from. Tits. And, he seems to realize what he's nuzzled against. My child's tiny arms come up and his hands grasp the Khajiit's clothed tits, desperately trying to pull himself closer to the sacks of fat.

I can't contain myself, I throw my head back and laugh. "He's his father's boy!". The maid offers a small and fake chuckle as she pulls my son away from her breast, the boy beginning to whimper again as he's forced away from what he probably thinks is his only source of food. The maid gently holds my babe and asks, "When has he last eaten?". I shrug and the woman sighs, putting the baby back in the basket. She stands and flutters around my room, grabbing random supplies. A sheet of cloth, a string, a jug of milk, and a bottle nipple (why that's there I'm not sure, but it might have had something to do with sex). The maid returns to my babe, pulls him out, and explains, "He's been wearing his diaper too long, and he's hungry.".

I scoff, "Why isn't he crying then?". The Khajiit begins attending to my son as she further explains, "The mother probably trained him not to. And, but train I mean she hurt him every time he cried. Nasty way to deal with babies, but some mothers do it.". She goes back to cuddling my baby as she feeds him his improvised bottle. "Do you have a lot of experience with babes? You don't look like a mother.". She nods and assures me, "I'm not. I just have a lot of nieces and nephews. My siblings idea of 'parenting' was throwing shoes at their screaming children, so I picked up a few things along the way to save the babes from getting bashed in faces.". We're interrupted by Irileth returning, a wooden sword in her hand.

The Dunmer goes over to her lover, gives her a light kiss, and says, "Go sit on the bed.". The Khajiit does as she's told, bringing my babe along with her to be safe. Irileth turns to me and commands, "Get up.". I'm her Jarl, but her voice still compels me to obey. When I'm standing she questions, "How much do you weigh?". I begin to complain, but Irileth roars, "How much do you weigh?!". I gulp and admit, "Twenty-two stones even.". My friend shakes her head and hisses, "You've let your gluttony get the better of you. A male Jarl of your age and height should weight fifteen stones at most. That means you'll need to lose seven stones. Do you know how much that is? Your damned _children_ weight less than seven stones. You're literally carrying around a large child worth of fat!".

I huff and hug my gut as I ask, "Why does my weight suddenly matter?". Irileth suddenly strikes, her wooden sword striking my side. I squeal like a pig as she growls, "Because a Jarl isn't suppose to be a walking tub of large! A little fat around the edges isn't bad, oblivion it's probably healthy! Fuck, I don't think I would've said anything even if you were three stones overweight. But _seven stones_! This isn't about appearance anymore, it's about the fact I don't want you to kneel over and die because you were walking up the stairs.".

She hits me again, "And, because you can't fight me!". Another strike, this time to the head. I growl, "I could to!". Irileth smiles and pulls an iron dagger from her pocket, throwing the weapon to me. As I catch it she challenges, "Prove it. Get off your fat ass and fight me!". The maid is dead silent, and so is my son. The two have been dragged into this, and they haven't even said a thing. They're just silent witnesses, forced to watch a play they may never speak about. I heave myself up and begin dropping into my fighting stance, but Irileth has already been prepared. She lunges forward, slashing like a woman possessed. I try to fight back or defend myself, but it's worthless.

I end up squealing like a pig being butchered as my friend goes to work, savagely beating me. Finally, I feel one of my knees give out after she gives it a solid _thwack_. When I land the entire floor seems to shudder under my girth, and I realize my friend is right. I've put on more than enough pounds, and I need to shed them. The Dunmer in question walks up to me, planting her foot on my chest. My dear friend shakes her head and continues, "A Jarl who can't fight is no Jarl at all.". Her face seems to soften as she explains, "I would love it if you could afford not to fight, and I'd love it if you could afford to be a little huskier than usual.".

Her expression softens further. "I wish that you could act however you wanted and nobody would blink an eye.". Her expression becomes like iron. "But we live in Skyrim, and they-". She points out to the city. "expect you to act a certain way. They want a thin, strong, handsome Jarl to lead them. They aren't doing anything about you now, but it's only a matter of time.". Her face softens for a third time, "You're my friend and my Jarl, and I swore to protect you as best as I can. That means telling you things like this. I'm sorry I had to hand your ass to you on a plate, but you needed to see it. Now, time for some changes. A strict diet, hard exercise, no more whores, regular bathing, and trim that beard of yours.".

I practically scream, "Irileth! Surely you can't be serious!". She nods. "I'm as serious as death itself. Now, onto your bastard.". She turns to the maid, picks up my child, and hands him to me. I huff and puff as I get up, but back sure not to hurt my son. When I'm standing the Dunmer commands, "You're raising him. He might not grow up to be your heir, but you're going to treat him like it. And, I mean _actually_ raising him. Not handing him off to someone else. I want _one_ normal child in this palace.". I groan and whine, but the Dunmer shuts me up and commands, "Raise your son, I'm going back to my room with my maid.". She takes the Khajiit's hand and goes, leaving me with my son. I look down at the little bundle. Fuck.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

I trudge back to my room, emotionally and mentally exhausted. Balgruuf's fathered a bastard. I knew the men liked fucking his whores, but I always thought he had the common sense to pull out! Damn my friend, damn him to oblivion. I've finally put my foot down, and there's no way I'm raising it again. The man needs to clean himself up, lose weight, and take responsibility. Everyone else his age has, now he has to. I can only blame myself. I let Balgruuf run around like being Jarl was one big game, and he never had to man up and do his duty to the people of Whiterun. Now the citizens are paying the price. And, there are significantly less citizens than there once were.

Why Balgruuf didn't get all of them to safety I'll never know, but I _do_ know one thing. People lie dead because of him, and he needs to pay. His payment will be in doing his duty, and giving gold to those who have lost their loved ones. A small price, but one I doubt my friend will give up willingly. But I can't back down now, or else he'll go right back to doing what he's doing. Whoring, drinking, and ignoring his responsibilities. When I'm back in my room I shut the door, but almost instantly the maid says, "I need to return to my duties.". I walk over, kiss her, and ask, "Are you sure?". She nods and I sigh, allowing her to go. But not before saying, "Have fun and be careful.".

I'm not sure what would hurt her, but I know I don't want it to. I sit down and begin filing paperwork, but the same damned guard from a few hours ago interrupts me. I sigh and put my stuff to the side, all but groaning, "What?". He swallows and answers, "A particularly angry parent here to see you. Something about her dead daughter.". I rub my temples and hiss, "Those letters were sent a few hours ago, how could a parent have gotten here that fast?". He adjust his helmet and explains, "She said she was in the area looking for her daughter, and the letter lead her here.". I sigh and mumble, "Tell her to go away, and that complaining won't bring her daughter back.".

The man cocks his head. "Really?". I all but roar, "No, not really! Have her complain to Farengar.". The guard remains. "Farengar is out.". I throw a book at him. "FINE! Bring me the damned angry parent. He nods and returns a few moments later, and I nearly scream at the parents who follows him. The woman is sleek and slender, her light silver-gray pelt shining in the torchlight. Bluish and black stripes cover her body, and her nose is a small dab of coal.

The Khajiit has a finely shaped head, and from here I can see her fur is soft, thick, and incredibly glossy. Her unusually long black claws are extended at her sides, and her bright blue eyes are glaring holes into me. How did she get here?! With a sinking feeling I remember where I made the messy pile of 'dead citizens'. Right beside the Khajiit's file. Damn it! I must have accidentally scooped the maid's file up with the files of the dead!

I take deep breaths, ball up my inner turmoil, and shove it down inside of me. I remain calm as I tell the guard, "Leave, and shut the door behind you.". He does as he's told. The replica of my maid stands before me, an angry expression on her face. Her simple tunic and shoes resemble what my maid was wearing when she worked at The Bannered Mare, and her clothing screams poverty. I motion at the seat across from me and manage to whisper, "Sit down.". She nods and slides in across from me. I fake sorting through some papers and ask, "Mrs.?". She curls her lips and hisses, "Ma'aji. Ma'aji Ajiva.". I nod and repeat, "Mrs. Ma'aji. What exactly are you here for?".

She reaches into her tunic, takes out a crumpled letter, and shoves it at me. I carefully unfold the paper and nervously read it. '_To the parent or guardian of_-'. Damn, they seriously misspelled my maid's name. I'll have to fix that eventually. '_it is with a heavy heart we inform you of your beloved daughter's death at The Raid of Whiterun. Know that the Stromcloaks that killed your child have received their just rewards, and your beloved daughter is resting peacefully in a grave outside the city. Enclosed in this letter is a small amount of gold in memory of your brave child, and it will hopefully assist you in getting through the grieving process_.'.

I fold it up and put it to the side. What do I do now? Do I lie and tell the mother her daughter is dead, or throw my maid under the carriage and tell her mother she's alive? While I'm thinking Ma'aji goes on a brief rant. "I've been to the ends of Skyrim and back looking for my daughter! There _has_ to be a mistake. She's not stupid enough to get killed, I raised her better.". I'm chewing on my options when the door opens, and a familiar woman comes in backwards with a gigantic tray of food in her hands. "Irileth, I got you some lunch.". Ma'aji's eyes light up without her even turning around, and I know she must recognize her own daughter's voice.

For a brief second I consider knocking one of them (or very likely both) of them out. It's not a good solution, but it'll buy me some time. However, my plan never comes to fruit. Ma'aji stands and turns around, and at the same time her daughter flips around with the tray still in her clawed hands. I sink into my chair and pray that neither of them think of looking at me. They don't. My maid seems to freeze up, and the tray of lunch in her hands _shatters_ on the ground. As the two look at each other one word goes through my mind over and over again. Fuck.


	17. Mother Dearest

My maid's mother opens her arms, whispering her daughter's name. The woman in question begins shaking her head in disbelief, taking a single step back in her attempt to escape. The older Khajiit takes a single step towards her own daughter, but the Khajiit is gone in an instant. Ma'aji sighs and puts her arms down, shaking her head as she screams her daughter's name. A loud scream of horror is the only response. I stand as Ma'aji rushes after the maid, her silvery tail disappearing before I can even get around my desk. I rush after them as quickly as I can, but it's no use. They lose me after a few minutes, and I'm left slowly walking the trail I _think_ they took.

I nearly scream when a blue hand grabs my ankle from beneath a table, but I quickly calm down and slide down to the ground. My maid is looking at me with wide eyes, tears making the two green orbs shiny as glass. I reach out and take her hand, doing my best to comfort her. "What's wrong? Why did you run from your mother?". The maid lets out a wail, but that's not a real answer. I crawl under the table with her and hug her as tightly as I can. "You can tell me anything. _Anything_. What did your mother do to you to make you want to run from her?". Another wail. I inwardly groan and decide to change my tactic. "Did your mother-". I think of how to phrase it. "_touch_ you when you were younger?".

The Khajiit opens her mouth, tears falling down her face. Her lips _snap_ shut, and she simply buries her head in my chest. As she wails in my chest I stroke her mane and assure her, "It's okay. It's okay. But you have to tell me if you want anything done. I can't do anything to the woman unless you say she did it. I can gather as many clues as I want, but without an accusation it's all worthless. Please. if you want your mother to go to jail, then you're going to have to tell me if she did anything to you.". She pulls back and opens her mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a strange _croaking_ sound. She swallows and tries to open her mouth again, but a blue hand interrupts us.

Ma'aji's arms come from nowhere and she grabs her own daughter, yanking her from my grasp and pulling her from our hiding place. A loud screech causes me to scrabble out from underneath the table. Ma'aji is holding her daughter against her, the smaller Khajiit screaming and trying to fight her way free. In an instant I draw my sword and yell, "GUARDS!". Jarl Balgruuf himself and his personal guards arrive, all of them with their weapons drawn. My fat friend looks at the sight before him and bellows, "What's going on?!". The fighting maid freezes up, and looks at Balgruuf like he's her knight in shining armor. I stand beside him and explain.

"This is Ma'aji Ajiva. She's the mother of our maid here. I'm not exactly sure _what_ her plans are for the maid, but I know the poor woman doesn't want to go with her mother. The maid is a full-grown woman, and she's able to decide what she wants to do. Now, I _demand_ you arrest Ma'aji Ajiva.". The maid and her mother both looked shocked, and Jarl Balgruuf questions, "On what grounds?". I puff out my chest and hiss, "Child molestation, child incestuous abuse, sexual assault of a minor, and sexual grooming of a child.". I see Balgruuf's gaze harden like ice, and I know he's angered by what I've said. Balgruuf hates every crime, but rape and child abuse are two that always seem to work him up to an extra level of rage.

I can't even imagine what he's feeling now that the two are combined. My friend nods, but admits, "We need more than your word. I trust you with all my heart, but you know how the law works.". He turns to my maid and asks, "Do you deny or admit that these charges are true?". The Khajiit flounders for a moment, tears still rolling down her face. Then, she takes a deep breath and she's gathering her courage. She looks at the Jarl, and finally answers. The Khajiit barely whispers, "Deny.".

The guards put their swords up and Balgruuf sighs, everyone turning around to leave. I'm shocked for a moment, then snap into action. I grab my friend, yank him around, and demand, "She isn't telling the truth! Her mother is terrifying her into lying!". He sighs and shakes his head. "You know we can't do anything about if until the Khajiit admits the charges have grounds. Get her to admit it, and we'll be able to arrest Ma'aji.". He turns back around and walks away, shaking his head as he goes. I turn back to the two Khajiits. My maid's gone limp, and she's looking at the ground with tears in her eyes. Ma'aji straightens her back and hisses at me, "_Liar_!".

I take three giant steps towards her, shoving my face so close to hers our breaths are mingling. "I know what you did to your daughter. You're a sick fucker, and I hope you burn in the deepest pit of oblivion.". Ma'aji leans in closer and whispers, "_Whore_.". She begins yanking her daughter away, but I lash out and grab the maid's hand. Ma'aji stops and demands, "I want to speak to my daughter in my room down at the inn. Release her. _Now_.". I shake my head and cockily say, "Only if your daughter tells me to-". Before I can finish the maid whispers, "Let me go.". I look down and begin to argue, but she roars, "LET ME GO!". Her voice softens, "I promise I'll be back.". My shock causes my hand to go limp, and Ma'aji takes the opportunity to drag her daughter away. I just stand there, my shock freezing me.

* * *

><p><strong>Dovahkiin POV:<strong>

My mother locks every door in her room, sliding the key into her pocket. I'm seated on her bed, and every single hair on my body is standing straight up. My mother turns and a grin is splitting her face, revealing every single one of her alabaster fangs. Ma'aji sits down beside me, her clawed hand coming out to touch my thigh. "I missed you.". I turn my head to the side and hiss, "I _hate_ you.". I feel my mother's hand tangled itself in my mane, and my neck is yanked back so I'm looking at the woman. Her other hand swings out at me, ripping three long scratches open on the bridge of my nose. I cry out and try to get away, but my mother has _always_ been stronger than me.

When I begin whimpering in pain the woman shushes me, wrapping her muscular arms around me as she asks, "See what you made me do? I don't want to hurt you, you're just so _damned_ _loud_!". I do what I've done all my life. What I've learned my mother wants. I apologize. "I'm sorry.". The woman pulls back and sighs, bringing both of her hands up to my face. She offers me a sweet smile and whispers, "My baby.". She leans in and I recoil, my ears flattening against my skull. Ma'aji sighs again and takes one of her hands away from my face, turning it so her palm is touching my cheek. As she runs the back of her hand down my face she asks, "Remember when we first did this?".

I nod, the memories hard to shake. My mother begins running her hand down my neck as she whispers, "You were so beautiful.". I take a dig and say, "I was so young.". It doesn't seem to deter my mother as she agrees, "So young. Firm. Tight.". She licks her lips and I jump back a little, thoughts of Irileth running through my mind. Why didn't I say something? Why didn't I let them take my mother away? The woman in question is beginning to play with my collarbones, and I know what happens next. Her clawed hand begins trying to rip away my shirt, and I do something I've never done in my life. I knock her hand away from my tit.

I'm Irileth's, not this woman's. I turn and look at Ma'aji's face. I regret knocking her clawed hand away. The palm that was touching my tit comes up to my neck, and she lightly squeezes as she says, "Do you know what happens if we're caught?". I nod, but she tells me again anyway. "You go to jail for letting your mother fuck you. And, do you know what's in jail? There are women there. Women who haven't been touched in years, and would love to get their hands on someone like you. _Rough_ hands. Hands that wouldn't care what you like and what you don't. They'd be ten times as rough as me, and they wouldn't bother cleaning you up later.".

Her grin widens, "And, you like that little Dunmer don't you?". I nod and she tells me, "She'd leave you if you ever told her what we do. Now, I believe we were talking about something.". She goes back to groping my tit, "Remember when you were little? You had the flattest chest, but you always made up for it with the little noises you'd make.". Her hand goes lower, grazing my hip as she says, "My favorite time was during that dust storm when you were eleven. Remember?". I nod, recalling the moment when my mother picked me up and carried me to the barn. We were the only ones in their besides the animals, and our family couldn't get to us because the storm was so bad.

My mother begins fiddling with my clothes as she whispers, "You were finally free to scream and yowl as loud as you want, but nobody could hear you. I loved that. I love hearing the noises you make.". I stand up in an instant, flatly demanding, "Let me out. I need to get back to work.". Something sparks in Ma'aji's eyes as she stands up. "So, my little baby girl finally grew the balls to stand up to me? And, after all these years. I thought what we had was special. You were my special baby girl.". I feel myself beginning to shake as I tell her, "You ruined my childhood. I'm not sure what being 'special' is to you, but it isn't this.".

I begin shaking harder and stamp my foot, pointing at the bed where she groped me. "_This_ is sick!". Another slap is my reward, my mother's claws opening up my cheek. Then, I feel an all too familiar feeling. My mother grabs my head and forces me onto the bed, the woman's weight landing on top of me. Her hand presses itself against my neck, and I feel the stink of a silencing spell being used on me. For the second time tonight I do something I've never done. I try to break lose.

My mother pins me, shushes me, and says, "Hush, don't fight. Remember the raping you'll get in prison.". Fuck the raping I'll get in prison, I don't want to do this anymore! I'm Irileth's partner, not some sick fuck-toy for my own damned mother! As I begin trying to get away my mother sighs, and raises her hand. I don't even feel her fist connecting with my skull.


	18. A Mother's Love

I open my eyes and see the roof swinging before me. I slam my eyes shut. When I slowly peel them back the roof is solid, but it's almost as black as tar. The candles must be going out. I'll have to fix that. I begin to move to get up, and I'm stopped by a heavy body on top of me. I manage to _crack_ my neck up, looking down at the woman lying on me. Ma'aji. My own mother. I'm still fully clothed (thank the gods for that small miracle), but my mother is stripped to her birthday suit. I feel shame overtake me as I recognize the familiar contours and marks of my mom's body. The scar on her back she got from a horse's rein breaking, the gigantic (and permanent) knot on her back from where a calf kicked her, and a lighter bit of fur near the base of her tail that she's never explained to me.

And, two brilliant green eyes that seem to be ripping my very soul apart. The silencing spell has slightly worn off, so I'm able to croak, "_Mother_...". A tremendous grin splits her face and she practically purrs, "Daughter.". I begin struggling against her, but my limbs are like sacks full of lead and meat. I resort to a tactic I've used ever since I was young enough to comprehend what was going on. "Please.". My mother's tongue comes out, licking up the length of my neck as she whispers, "Please what?". I take a deep breath and plead, "Please, stop.".

A cruel laugh meets my ears, and hope flees my body. Ma'aji looks down and sighs, and I know she's going to go on one of her reminiscing rants. My guess isn't wrong. The older Khajiit sighs and begins stroking the side of my face. "I remember when I first ushered you into womanhood.". I manage to slur, "I was eleven.". She nods and agrees, "You were eleven.". She sighs again and begins to play with the fur on my neck. "So young and innocent.". A strange smile comes over her features. "You only thought your cunt was for pissing, and that your nipples were for show.". She looks into my eyes and I recoil as she continues talking about the past.

"My pretty baby. You never even knew what your little body did to me. I laid with your father almost every night, and thoughts of you were rushing through my mind. You didn't even have a clue how bothered you got me. None of your siblings ever got me worked up like you did. It was like you were born a seductress. You didn't even had tits and you were able to get me more aroused than your father, and he had years to try!". I feel her nimble fingers beginning to undo the top of my clothes as she keeps living in a far-off place in the long-ago past. "Your father was in town trying to trade some of our goods, your sisters went out to fix the fences, and your brothers went to butcher some cows.".

"I was suppose to go with your father, but I made an excuse to stay home. Something about cleaning up around the house.". She lets out a small chuckle. "Gods know the place was always clean. And, you were suppose to go with your sisters and help them. They always said your little hands were the best at fixing the wire on the fences.". She's undone half of my buttons, and my arms are still lead and meat. "But I had better plans for those little hands of yours.". Her other hand comes up to idly trace my face as she recounts the story I've shoved down for most of my life. "I remember waking you up and telling you that you got to spend a special day alone with mommy. Your eyes practically lit up! You were always mamma's special girl, and you could never resist spending the day with me.".

She leans in for a kiss, but I yank my head to the side. My mother sighs and shrugs, continuing where she left off. "I gave you your first beer that day. You just couldn't tell daddy or your siblings. Remember that?". I slobber, "I recall.". She's done unbuttoning my shirt, and she begins yanking the fabric off. I'm not too concerned at the moment. I know when she's ready to start fucking me. I know and I've known since I was twelve years of age, and my mother hasn't swayed from her tradition in the slightest ever.

When I'm freed of my shirt she goes back to the story. "You were so happy to get to drink beer. I could only guess it was because you were the only one not allowed to drink it. And, I remember how happy you were afterwards. You practically curled up on my lap and went to sleep.". She begins to untie my breast bindings. "I couldn't take it any longer. I'd planned on waiting until the afternoon, but I couldn't. Not with you on my lap. Did you even _think_ about what your body would do to me?". No I was eleven and the only thing I was thinking about was how much I loved my mother, and how much I wanted to take a nap until my sisters came home.

Then, I wanted to play with them until it was time for another nap. But I never got that. The woman above me lets out a feral groan as she continues, "You'll never know how damned mouthwatering you looked spread out on my bed. Your pert little tits, tight cunt-". She cuts herself off with a groan, and begins desperately tugging at the rest of my clothes. She doesn't need to finish the rest of the story for me, I already know how it goes. No matter how hard I try, I always know how the story goes. I didn't even know what my mother was doing when she took off my clothes. I just assumed it was to give me my daily bath before breakfast. Oh how wrong I was.

I begin to remember the horrors my mother made me endure, the tortures she put me through to bring herself her own sexual gratification. By the time she was done I was a sobbing, bleeding, ruined mess of a little girl. I was eleven and I'd already been fucked like a twenty-five year old whore. And, that still wasn't enough for my mother. A sudden feeling of dread grabs my stomach, pummeling it into a messy pulp. I know it's absolutely ridiculous, but a sudden fear of that happening again overtakes me. I can barely remember what the sensations I endured that day felt like, but now they're coming back to me so clearly. And, fear accompanies every single memory of sensation that comes to me.

My tiny arms being yanked above my head, my mother's teeth nipping my nonexistent tits until they bled, the woman's sharp claws ripping my cunt's walls as she fucked me, and my own mother's ragged breath on my face as she brought herself to her own crescendo of pleasure. When it was all over I was a crying mess, but that hardly mattered to my mother. The woman in question kisses my now naked chest, picking up the story almost exactly from where I'd stopped. "I remember holding you when I was done ushering you into womanhood. You were crying, and you kept panicking about something.".

She starts taking off my pants. "But I calmed you. And, I warned you about the dangers of what we just did.". She yanks my pants off a little too harshly. "And, it seems you've ignored my warnings.". I yank my head to the side, but she grabs it and forces it back into place as she snarls, "I warned you that the law would try to tear us apart. That people wouldn't want us to see one another again. That nobody else would want you.". A glint comes to her eyes and she whispers, "Not even that little Dunmer girl would want you if she knew you'd been touched by your mother.". I can't help it. I'm naked, defenseless, and humiliated. Tears begin rolling down my face, and my mother is there.

She shushes and holds me. "Hush little baby. It's okay. I've got you. I've got you.". My mother disappears for a moment, then returns with a bottle in her hand. Skooma. I begin crying harder as I try to get my useless arms to work."No! I don't-". My dead tongue briefly stops me, but I manage to continue. "Poison!". My mother chuckles and takes a swig. "Here, I know you want some.". I shake my head. I've touched the poison twice (both at my mother's urging), and I refuse to touch it again. Besides, I told Irileth I've never touched the stuff. It was a lie, but I still want to make her proud. However, I can't really do anything when my mother puts the bottle to my lips, pouring it into my mouth. It's drown or drink. Damn. Damn it all to oblivion.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

I stand on my balcony, watching the city below me slowly go through its day. I feel my friend before he arrives, but I don't say anything before he's standing beside me. "You didn't arrest. Ma'aji.". He agrees, "I couldn't. Your little maid ruined that plan.". I scoff. "You've arrested people for less.". He groans and repeats, "Your maid ruined it. Now, why aren't you down there defending her?". I shrug and say, "She wants to be with her mother, and she promised she'd be back.". My tremendous friend sighs and argues, "She _didn't_ want to go with Ma'aji. A blind man could see that, but there's nothing we could legally do about that.". I practically snarl, "Stop being cryptic.".

Balgruuf groans. "I'm not. I'm defenseless in this situation, but you're not. Just keep her away from her mother, and wait for something to happen. A confession from either of them will work, but catching them in the act will be just as good.". I shake my head and challenge, "Incest is also illegal. You know our legal system is fucked up. The maid would go to jail with the mother, and that's not the best way to treat victims of a crime.". My friend agrees, "Our legal system is fucked, but I have control over one thing. The bail. If you manage to work this out, then I promise you I'll mess with the bail. Ma'aji's will be worth that of a king, and the maid will hardly have any.".

I pause before asking, "Truly?". He nods and says, "Truly, but there is a catch.". My curiosity overpowers me and I ask, "What?". A sharp slap to the back of my head is my answer. "What are you doing waiting here?! Her mother could be mounting her right now, or your little maid could be ready to sing a confession that locks her mother up! Standing up here and wallowing in self-pity isn't going to do a damned thing! Now, GO!". I rub my head and snarl back, "What was that for?!".

He shrug and replies, "The catch was I got to give you that speech.". His face grows more serious. "But I meant every single word of it. Now, I would suggest leaving.". I nod and assure him, "I'm going.". I turn and rush away from the balcony, intend on saving the maid from whatever fate is doing to her. I can only pray to the gods I'm not too late.


	19. Family Matters

**Ma'aji POV:**

My daughter blinks her blurry eyes, intent on looking at the ceiling. I think I hear yelling downstairs, so I quickly get dressed. Nothing. I sigh, the toss the bottle of Skooma to the side and return to my bag. My Moon Sugar is in the very bottom, slightly crushed by _The Ten Commands of the Nine Divines_. I brush the book to the side and pick up my sugar, already excited about the evening. I'll have to thank my daughter's Dunmer friend. Without her I'd still be down in Riften looking for my child. I go over to the table in my rented room, ripping open my sugar and pouring it on the table. My daughter looks at me while I inhale the drug, but doesn't say a word.

She always was quite whenever I managed to get some Skooma in her. It's a hard feat to do, but I've managed it. As the Moon Sugar begins working I slip out of my outfit, the younger Khajiit finally seeming to realize what's going to happen. We've played this game hundreds of times before, but she's only recently become defiant. I despise defiance. She was never happy about if from the get-go, but she's never openly tried to stop me until her _idiot_ of a father began meddling into business that didn't concern him. Damned bastard scared my child away, and I had to trudge across this frozen wasteland to find her. But it doesn't matter now. She's here, and I have her. My biggest concern should be reinstalling the lessons I've already taught her.

She shouldn't be separated from me, prison is where she'll get raped by people worse than me, and nobody outside of her mother can be trusted. Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea how much of her mind has changed. I know her damned father managed to make her realize what I did to her was wrong, but I don't know how much her mind has been warped from her time away from me. I suppose there's only one way to find out. I finish relieving myself of my clothing, then walk over and sit beside my child. She cowers away from my touch, threatening to hiss when my hand comes close to her. But she doesn't have the balls to do anything, and soon the palm of my hand is resting on her cheek.

"Do you believe what we're doing is wrong?". She nods. "Are you unconcerned with what prisoners will treat you like?". She shakes her head. Good. "Have you dared to trust anyone else?". She looks conflicted and shrugs. Not good. "Did you tell your little elf friend what we do?". She shakes her head again. Thank the gods for that. Now, just one last question. "Do you still insist you aren't a murderer?". My youngest daughter closes her eyes, and I have to wait a few minutes before she answers. "I didn't kill her.". Damn, I really didn't want to have to do this to her. Well, maybe I did a little. Or a lot.

I grab her chin and yank it up, then demand, "Open. Your. Eyes.". Her watery emerald eyes slowly reveal themselves to me. I show her my alabaster fangs and hiss what I've hisses so many times before. "You killed your sister.". My daughter does something she knows is stupid. She argues. "I wasn't even born!". I feel my ebony claws slide out, and I slash my child across the face for a third time today. She yelps, whimpers, and tries to get away. I ignore her pleas to be set free. Her scarlet blood shines on my claws, and stains her pelt. I couldn't care less. It's just a few more scratches to add to the collection she has beneath her bluish pelt.

I retract my claws and growl, "Your sister is dead because of you. You came into this world as fat as a piglet, and she came out skin and bones. You took everything for yourself, and left her to starve. _Her death is on your head!_". She once again wails, "I wasn't even born! I didn't know what was going on! It wasn't my fault!". My child is crying again as I bring up the twin's long dead sister. I honestly couldn't care less about the buried baby. I got over her long ago, now all I want to focus on is the daughter in front of me. But the twinless twin's deceased sibling still strikes a particularly painful cord in her heart, and it has ever since she was told about what happened when she was born.

She was swaddled in a blanket, and her sister was put in a coffin. And now the survivor is spread across my borrowed bed, and her sister's skeleton is probably nothing more than dust. I bring my other hand out and run a finger down the side of her face as I tell her, "You look so beautiful when you cry.". It's not a lie, the girl has always looked prettier when she's wailing like a babe. My daughter freezes up and stops crying, always determined to make things harder on herself. I sigh and lean in, my clawed hand still holding my child in place. She attempts to suck in her lips to avoid kissing me, but it's no use. I've learned all of her tricks by now, and how to overcome them.

I force her lips to kiss mine, and use my hands to _pop_ open her jaws. My child whimpers as my tongue slips into her mouth, my wet organ easily claiming her mouth as mine. One of my hands comes down to cradle my daughter's naked breast, and I allow my thumb's black claw to slide out. I begin cruelly teasing her nipple with the sharpest point of my claw, my tongue still raping the younger Khajiit's mouth. When I pull back to catch my breath my daughter begs, "Please. No.". I chuckle at her request. She's high as oblivion, she still hasn't regained full control of her limps, and the key to the room in safely hidden underneath the bed.

And, to top it all off my child hasn't gotten her full voice back. It's a situation we've been in before, and both of us know how this is going to end. So, I save both of us the time it would take to justify her a response, and instead go back to what I was doing. However, the younger Khajiit has other ideas. She manages to twist away from me, then cowers and covers herself with her arms. Damn, looks like I'll have to back up and take a subtle approach. I pout and rub my child's back as I ask, "Why won't you let mommy show you how much she loves you?". She begins shaking in terror as she stutters, "It's n-not n-normal.". Damned, that's her father talking through her.

For once I don't regret what I did to the man. I rub my daughter's back more soothingly as I assure her, "There's nothing wrong with what we're doing.". I quickly walk over to my bag, fishing out the book I've shown her since she was eleven. _A Family's Love. _On the outside it looks fine, but on the inside there's enough evidence to get me locked away for thirty years to life. I sit beside my daughter and wrap one arm around her, rubbing her shoulder as I show her the familiar book. Inside are all painted pictures of people fucking. Specifically people who are related by blood, and with the child (or children) being roughly the age my daughter was when I first fucked her.

The book originally had pictures of every kind of incestious fucking, but I fixed that. I ripped out every page that didn't involve purely a mother and daughter. I didn't want my little girl to start trying to suck her father's cock, or begin playing with her brother's balls. My other children could do whatever they want and I wouldn't care, but the daughter beside me is all mine. Not even that Dunmer bitch is going to change that. I slowly flip through the pages of the small book. It was nearly a hundred pages when a got it, but the mother and daughter pictures only take up about thirty-four of the pages.

When I'm done I stroke the side of my daughter's face as I question, "Are you sure it's still not normal? If it was wrong, than why would all of these people be doing it?". She looks uncertain of herself as she answers, "It's against the law.". Perfect, I can turn that argument around on her. "So is drinking Skooma. Do you think your entire family, including you, should go to prison because we enjoy our Skooma?". She looks even more unsure of herself as her loyalty and dedication to her family overtake her. "No, but that's different.". I begin playing with her collarbone and challenge, "How? Both things are illegal, but doing them doesn't hurt anyone. They're enjoyable and fun, we just can't get caught doing them.".

Years of grooming my child pay off, and she looks like she can't come up with an argument against me. I smile and ask, "Do you see my point?". She shakes her head and mumbles, "Father said-". I cut her off by snarling, "Your father is a drunken mule who only cares about how many ears of corn he can grow!". She shuts up, nervously shifting herself as she tries, "Zoaadirr told me-". I once again ruin her argument, "Your brother fucks anything with a hole for him to stick his cock in. He's in no position to judge you.". She trails off again, unsure how to defend her favorite sibling from my criticism. When she can't she moves on to her last remaining person.

"Do'isa warned me-". I don't even bother waiting. "Your sister got her head smashed in by an Argonian drug dealer. Are you _really_ going to take advice she told you before she ended up croaking?". I see her begin to panic as she whimpers, "Everyone told me that only people in love show their love like we do. They cautioned me to tell someone if you did things to me.". I stroke her face again and ask, "Do you not love me?". Panic grips her face as she desperately tries to assure me and herself of her loyalty to her family. "No! No! That's not it. It's just...". When she trails off I take my chance, moving in for the kill.

"We love each other. Why can't we show each other how we love one another? We've done it all your life.". She bristles and tries to once again defeat my argument. Poor baby. "People told me to tell them if you touched me in a way you shouldn't.". I hold back my smirk. "But here we are, and you haven't told anyone. You didn't even confess it to the Jarl of Whiterun.". She falls silent and I finish, "And, it's for the best you didn't tell. I might go to jail, but so would you. You'd be raped by the ugly Orcs who inhabit every jail cell. I can defend myself, but you can't. You're also too pretty for one of those beast to pass up. They'd beat you, rape you until you bled, and leave you in a pile on the floor.".

"They wouldn't even care enough to know your name. Also, think of the people that love you. Daddy, all of your siblings, and that little Dunmer girl I saw. Do you _really_ want them to know what you and your mommy do behind close doors? Do you _really_ want them to tear us away, throw us in jails, and ruin our lives? Nobody would talk to you, and I'd be in jail after you got out.". She relaxes her muscles, and I know what that means. She's given up. Just like she has a hundred times before. I lean in and kiss her again, dominating her mouth and starting to play with her tits. That's when someone bangs on the door, and a familiar voice screams from the other side. Shit.


	20. A Dutiful Daughter

**Dovahkiin POV:**

My mother sighs and pulls back, a perturbed look on her face. She rolls her eyes and mumbles, "Distractions. Always distractions.". She pulls back and begins making us presentable. I don't bother fighting. We've played this game a thousand times, and my mother is the master at it. She'll have us both dressed, cleaned, and in a normal position before the door opens. The woman in question is already dressed, forgoing breast bindings and underpants to save time. When she's dressed she throws me some clothes and demands, "Get dressed.". I nod and comply, but the knocking at the door stops. However, neither of us stop getting ready. We aren't fools, and we won't fall for such an easy trick.

I'm barely dressed when the balcony door begins to shake, someone attempting to get in. But it's useless, and eventually the banging stops. My mother rolls her eyes and begins straightening up the room. When the task is done she walks over to me. She puffs up my fur, pushes some of it over my wounds, and uses a spit covered rag to clean the visible blood off my face. To finish it up she throws some water in my eyes, then tells me, "Let me freshen up, then we'll go sit on the balcony.". I nod and my mother goes over to the bowl of water that's in the room, fixing herself up. When she's done she nods in approval and announces, "We're ready.".

I don't bother responding. Ma'aji reaches under the bed, grabs the key to our room, and unlocks the door to the balcony. I expect Irileth to rush in and save me, but no Dunmer bursts in. I sigh and follow my mother out onto the balcony, sitting down in one of the two seats. The older Khajiit begins nibbling on a piece of bread, and she forces some into my hand. I hear the door to our room being banged on, and a _crash_ tells me that whoever was trying to get in got tired of waiting. My eyes find the floor and I tear off a wad of wet yeast and move it around in my mouth. Hurried footsteps announce the arrival of someone. I pray to every god I know that it isn't Irileth.

The gods laugh and my partner snarls, "What in oblivion is going on?!". I swallow my lump of bread, then take another bite so I have an excuse not to answer. However, Ma'aji easily lies, "I'm enjoying some lunch with my daughter. Is there a problem?". Out of the corner of my eye I see Irileth come out onto the balcony, but I remain focused on the floor. I hear the Dunmer quietly growl, "I _know_ you weren't just enjoying some lunch with your daughter. The balcony was locked when I tried getting in through it.". Sweet, sweet, sweet Irileth. You poor, innocent fool. My mother has been doing this for years, and harder people haven't broken her. She won't give in because of you.

Sure enough my mother insist, "We were busy talking.". It's a poor excuse, but it's one my mother will cling to till death. And, it's enough that she can't get arrested. However, it doesn't appease the Dunmer. "Admit that you forcibly fucked your daughter.". I can practically hear my mother's smirk as she announces, "I didn't fuck my daughter.". It's not a lie, and Ma'aji knows it. Well, _today_ it's not a lie. But Irileth still doesn't buy it. However, she changes her tactic. I feel her kneel down beside me, and one of her grey hands comes out and takes my own. I continue looking at the floor, but a gentle hand moves my chin so I'm looking into my partner's red eyes.

The Housecarl pleads, "Please. Please, just say one word. A single word is all I need to save you from,". She shoves her head back in a motion to my mother. "_her_. One word and she'll be hauled off to jail, charged, and sentenced. And, you'll be fine. We'll take care of you. _I'll_ take care of you. Please, just be honest about the question I'm about to ask you. Did your mother touch you? And, I don't just mean today. Last week, last year, last era! It doesn't matter. If she _ever_ did anything even _remotely_ sexual with you, then tell me now. Just say 'yes' and this entire thing can go away. You'll be okay. I _promise_.". I look up at my mother, but do it fast enough that Irileth won't notice.

Ma'aji is glaring daggers at me, and her lips are slightly raised to reveal her pearly fangs. She sees me looking and smiles, peeling back her lips even more to show me her mouthful of gleaming white daggers. She raises her fist, and uncurls her pointed finger. My mother allows her ebony claw to slide out of its sheath, and makes a cutting motion across her throat. I make the smallest nod in understanding, but make sure it'll go unnoticed by Irileth. I look into my partner's scarlet eyes, the woman still waiting for an answer. I gulp and finally give in. "No. My mother never touched me. She's never done anything even remotely sexual to me.".

The Dunmer's eyes seem to shatter and she whimpers, "_Please_.". Ma'aji grabs the woman's shoulder and yanks her back as she demands, "Stop harassing my daughter! She gave you your damned answer, now get off it!". The Dunmer harshly stands up and turns around, "I'm not sure how you've gotten your daughter this well trained, but I'll fix this. I swear to every god I know that I'll see you in chains.". The Dunmer turns to me and commands, "Let's go. You have duties at the palace.". Before I can answer my mother tells me, "Don't listen to her, she just wants you back. Stay here so we can finish our talk.". Irileth looks shocked, but is already ready to fight for me.

"She's coming back with me.". Ma'aji scoffs. "She's a grown woman, let her make her own choice.". They both turn to me and I freeze, then slowly look at the two. Irileth is pleading with her eyes for me to come with her, but my mother is having a different reaction. She slides a single claw out, fidgeting her hand and letting me know she'll hurt Irileth if I go with her. I swallow and whisper, "Irileth,". She brightens up. "please go back. I'll return in a few hours, I just want to catch up on lost time with my mother. I promise I'll have my maid duties done by tomorrow.". The Dunmer begins to grovel, "Please, come back. I promise-". Ma'aji interrupts us by yanking Irileth away.

The two argue and scream as my mother forces her out, but in the end the Khajiit wins. I watch the Dunmer leave the inn with tears in my eye as I realize what I've done. My partner is barely out the door when I'm being forced back into the room, my mother locking the doors and hiding the key after she forces me not to look. I look at the ground as my mother approaches me, shedding her clothes as she goes. She rubs the sides of my neck as she leans in. "Good girl. _Very_ good girl.". I close my eyes as my mother once again forces me to kiss her, the older Khajiit's wet tongue dominating me. As she pushes me onto the bed I send out a silent prayer. A prayer for Irileth to save me. Again.

* * *

><p><strong>Ma'aji POV:<strong>

I smile as my daughter's chest is revealed to me, her tight tits beckoning me to kiss them. I oblige the urge, and soon enough I'm sucking the younger Khajiit's pert nipple in my mouth. My daughter freezes up and goes as still as a statue. Not even her tail moves. I pull back and adjust us so I'm straddling her hips, looking down at the girl pinned to my bed. I grab both of her tits, kneeing them like bread dough as I sigh. "Such a good little girl.". Her eyes go hazy and I feel anger stir in my gut. I want her here in the present. With me. I lean down and nibble her neck, and it sufficiently brings my daughter back to the here and now. I pull back and question, "Did that little Dunmer ever get in your pants? Did you let _anyone_ besides me into your pants?".

When she goes silent I demand, "Well?!". She shakes her head and manages to hoarsely say, "No! Nobody.". I can hear the lie in her voice and whisper, "_Liar_!". When she starts to cry I backtrack and promise, "I won't be mad. Just tell me who.". She gives in. "The carriage driver who got me out of Hammerfell. I lied and told her I needed to leave because I was found sleeping with a woman. I tried to pay her in a bottle of Skooma that Zoaadirr gave me. That was the agreed upon payment, but after hearing my story she wanted something else.".

I feel my claws come out and dig into my daughter's flesh as I hiss, "You paid for the ride to run away from me with _your_ _cunt_?!". She nervously shakes her head and I offer her another one of my signature grins. I make sure to show off all of my teeth, a reminded to the woman of how easily I can shred her neck into a bloody pulp. My daughter begins moving beneath me and begs, "Please. I swear I won't do it again!". I smile and assure her, "I know you won't.". She seems relieved for a few moments, but then it dawns on her what I'm going to do. Her breathing quickens up and she grovels, "_Mommy_.". I lunge forward, sinking my fangs into her shoulder.

My child cries out and begins desperately trying to get away. I ignore her and tighten my jaw even more, and feel my teeth _scraping_ against bone. My daughter is wailing and crying, but her voice is still too hoarse to make her struggle known. I pull back and mumble, "You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?". She nods in submission, tears streaming down her face. I smile and whisper, "Do you know what naughty girls get?". She nods her head, and we both know it's not a lie. We've done this before, and I've had to reprimand my child multiple times in the past. I pull back and tell her, "Naughty girls get the ropes.". I see the fear in her eyes and smile. Absolutely perfect.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

I grab another bottle of beer, downing it as Jarl Balgruuf slides into the bench across from me. The Great Hall is abandoned, so it's just us. He clears his throat and asks, "So, how'd it go?". I manage to slur the situation for him, occasionally stopping to down another glass of my personal poison. When it's done he leans back and tells me, "Well, it's clear what you must do.". I roll my eyes and question, "What?". He rubs his beard and explains, "The mother and the daughter aren't talking, but others might. Find her family, and get them to sing. Bring a sister or brother back. If they sing in front of me, then I can put the mother in chains.". His eyes soften.

"I can see how much this woman means to you. I'll pay for the ride to and from if you want me to. Or, I have another idea.". I perk up. "I can arrest them both for something, and hope they sing along the way. Say a word and I'll have you on a carriage to Hammerfell, have the two thrown in jail, or I can do nothing at all.". He cocks his head, "Well, what will it be?". I sigh, already knowing my choice.


	21. The Ropes

**Ma'aji POV:**

I absentmindedly hum as I tie the ropes on my daughter even tighter, the Khajiit whimpering as she begins fidgeting. I smack her thigh and mumble, "Bad girl.". My daughter stills, and I finally have all the ropes in place. I step back and smile at my handiwork, then go over and sit down on the bed. I pick up _The Ten Commandments of The Nine Divines _and start leafing through it, my daughter whimpering as she tries to get comfortable. I sigh and look up at her, and instantly feel arousal boiling in my groins. She has ropes tied all around her body, steel clamps attached to each end of every rope. The clamps are in the shapes of dragon heads, but they're all chipping and faded.

Each dragon is biting onto a different part of the girl's body, their teeth stained red from past encounters. However, blood hasn't filled their mouths. Yet. If my daughter begins yanking around or fighting, then the copper lizards will taste the liquid they crave. Each one is biting down on a sensitive part of my child's body. Her nipples, tits, cunt lips, clit, asshole, tail, the corners of her mouth, ears, and feet. The ropes extended all over her body, binding and squeezing her in ways I never could. But that's not why my daughter is fidgeting and twitching. Right now she's bending her knees and hunching over, so the clamps on her cunt, ass, clit, and feet are limp.

However, the clamps on her nipples, ears, and mouth are all taunt and yanking at her flesh. Even now she's desperately trying to strain her neck in an awkward position, so the clamps and ropes might not hurt her face. But it's futile, and eventually she straightens back up. Her ears, lips, and tits are released of their pain, but her cunt, asshole, clit, feet, and tail are now being cruelly yanked on. My daughter begins shifting from foot to foot, hunches over, straightens up, gets on her tiptoes, distributes her weight awkwardly, flicks her tail, and eventually lies on the ground. Her arms are tied behind her back and her hands together, so she isn't able to rise once she gets down.

And, getting down has made it all the worse. The ropes are getting caught on the floor, and now everything is being yanked on. My daughter lets out her best yowl of pain, but her voice is still weak. It comes out as a hoarse croak, and the girl begins rolling around and writhing in agony. She tries her best to relieve the pain by getting in the most awkward of positions, but it doesn't do her any good. Fuck, I can't take this torment anymore. I'm already stripped, so all I have to do to reach my cunt is spread my legs. I bring my fingers above my entrance, harshly rubbing the bundle of nerves that I know will finish me off the fastest. All the while I watch my daughter.

Soon enough her blood is flowing, the clamps getting to stain their teeth as the sweet liquid _drips_ onto the floorboards. My daughter eventually tries what she's tried a hundred times before. She begins violently thrashing, a spark of adrenaline allowing her to temporarily ignore the pain. She even begins yanking on her arms in a vain attempt to bust free of the ropes that tie her. It's useless, and eventually her adrenaline wears off. Now she's forced to feel everything she's done to herself, and all she can do is whimper in pain. My cunt threatens to spasm in pleasure, but I move my hand away before I can. I don't want to ruin the entire thing.

I stand and make my way over to my child, gently brushing her mane out of her face as I ask, "Do you know why you're getting the ropes?". She nods and I yank on the clamps that are tied to her mouth, making it clear I want a definite answer. "I ran away.". She's slurring badly, but I can tell what she means. I nod, but make no move to free her. "I let the carriage driver touch me.". Closer, but there's still a little more she needs to say. "I'm seeing Irileth.". I correct her, "You _were_ seeing Irileth.". I see her pleading eyes look at me, but when I don't budge she repeats, "I was seeing Irileth.". I nod in approval, but continue, "One more thing.". My child knows what it is.

"I tried to fight my way out of my punishment.". I smile and tell her, "Bravo.". I reach out, grab a rope at random, and yank as hard as I can. I follow the rope along her body, yanking all the way. When I find the clamp I release her, following the rope to the other end. When I find the second clamp I twist the dragon head before taking it off, my daughter whimpering all the while. After freeing her of the rope entirely, I toss it to the side. I repeat the process multiple times, my child letting out noises of pain all the while. When she's freed of her ropes she climbs onto her hands and knees. I sigh and wait for what I know is coming. She takes one shaky step away from me.

I yank back my hand, my palm _smacking_ against her ass and sending her tumbling to the floor. My child curls up on herself and closes her eyes, and my loins begin awakening once again. I've been holding off on the main event far too long, and I decide to fix it. I rub my daughter's back and whisper, "Good girl. You took your punishment so well.". She sniffles and looks up at me, her eyes red around the edges. I smile and tell her, "You made mommy so proud. You're such a wonderful girl, taking your punishment like a big girl for mommy.". My daughter looks sickened at my words, but they have the desired effect. Every child yearns for their parents' approval, no matter what they insist.

She's ecstatic for the praise, even if she insist she doesn't want it. I offer my daughter a kind smile and slowly start rubbing her stomach as I tell her, "You were very brave, thank you for taking your punishment like a good little girl.". I cup one of her tits. "We all make mistakes, it's just mommy's job to correct you when the mistakes are too big to go unchecked.". I bring my other hand up to her unoccupied tit. "Sometimes I'm so proud to be your mother. You were absolutely amazing when you didn't whimper after I slapped your ass.". I lean down, sucking one of her nipples for a short while. When I pull back I keep praising her. "I forgive you for what you've done.".

My child is uncurled, a confused expression on her face as she allows her own mother to play with her tits. The poor girl's mind in probably a turmoil of emotions and thoughts, all of them coming together to make one big tangled mess. Good. The more she's tangled, the less of a chance there is of me getting caught. I finish my praise up. "I love you.". My child looks sick, confused, and terrified as she whispers back, "I love you.". I smile and repeat. "I love you more than my own skin.". My daughter response in the manner she has since she was twelve. "I love you more than my own heart.". I lean in and finish, "I love you more than my own soul.".

It's a good thing I love her more than my own soul because I'm almost certain I'm going to oblivion when I die. But I don't plan on dying for a while, so I may as well enjoy my time right now. I give my daughter's tits two last kisses, then pull back and ask, "How much do you love your mommy?". My daughter brokenly repeats, "More than my own heart.". I smile and ask, "Enough to use your mouth?". She looks absolutely revolted at the idea, but I've broken her well enough. She nods and whimpers, "Yes, mommy.". My loins roar again. Fuck, did she call me 'mommy' recently? I don't think she did because every single time she does my cunt becomes wet, and a fire starts in my guts.

It's all I can do to make it to the bed, spreading my legs and revealing myself to my daughter. My child unsteadily makes her way onto all fours, crawling over to me. She nears my cunt, then freezes up and pleads, "Mother, please. I don't-". I cut her off by shoving my hand into her mane, all five of my claws coming out and threatening to rip her skull open. I _tsk_ her and sigh. "You were being such a good little girl! Did the ropes not teach you enough? Do I need to bring out the stretcher?". She shakes her head and I hiss, "Then, get to work! Unless you want mommy to go first?". She hesitates, but ultimately makes her choice.

I feel her tongue gently touch my cunt, and I let out a small groan of approval. "Good girl! _Good_ girl!". She starts working a little harder, pushing her face even further in between my legs. My claws begin to nick her skin, and I urge her, "Harder! Faster!". She complies, but I feel something odd against my cunt. I look down and see tears streaming down the girl's face, her watery eyes looking at nothing. My loins burn harder and I bring my free hand to my own cunt, helping myself along. As I go I continue whispering praise to my daughter. "Fuck you're good at that. Harder, up a litt-shit! Right there! Gods damn, harder! Ah, lower!".

As I begin to reach my peak of pleasure I go silent, roughly clawing the back of my child's skull. Finally, when I pull back I see the woman is openly (but quietly) sobbing. I pout as I question, "Did you not like pleasing mommy?". She opens her mouth, then begins bawling like a baby. I sigh and stand, forcing my daughter on the bed with her back facing the roof. I _tsk_ her again and discipline, "Bad, bad little girl. Did you not learn anything?". She begins trying to get away. Looks like it's up to me to teach her again. My hand raises, and _smacks_ against her ass. I begin spanking her like she's a ten year-old brat, only I do it harder and faster than needed. As my daughter sobs and thrashes I groan, my loins awakening. It's going to be a long night.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

The carriage beneath me rocks and sways, but I don't give into the sensation and allow myself to sleep. I clutch the folders in my hands like my life depends on it. Mine doesn't, but the maid's does. Inside the file is a map of how to get to the little farm she grew up on. However, I'm not sure if that's right. I did some more research, and almost everything in my file was wrong. It's clear to me _why_ the Khajiit lied (assuming she did), but it still makes everything more difficult. My old file claimed she was twenty winters of age, previously married to a Mrs. Anjaajma, was without children, and wasn't currently not a member of any major religious associations.

And, it also said there was no more kin (besides her close family) to speak of. Her age is right, but I highly doubt she was married. Or, at the very least she got wed without anyone's knowledge. I doubt she has children or is in a religion, but I'm not sure how large or small her family is. The confusion came with one of the maid's sisters. Apparently the maid was named after one of her deceased half-siblings, and my spies were unaware of it. They jumbled the information, and now the woman's past is more confusing than ever.

Especially with her mother in the picture. When I originally confronted the maid with the information she agreed to it, but that could have been for her own protection. I allow my mind to stop rushing about, instead focusing on my destination. A small nowhere farm on the coast of Hammerfell.


	22. A Father's Regret

My horse whinnies as I force him to go harder, my cloak snapping behind us in the slight wind. I take a moment to grab my canteen off of the beast's saddle, and take a small swig of water. However, I make sure to ration it. I'm not in any danger of dying of thirst, but I don't want to have a dry throat on the last leg of my journey. I've already traversed nearly all of Hammerfell, and I'm almost across the gigantic desert that makes up most of this province. And, that means I'll be in the fertile farmland that makes up the outer area of the home of the Redguards. For once the gods don't laugh, and soon enough my horse's hoofs are pounding up dirt instead of sand.

The beast seems to find some new energy because he begins running faster, and my robes _snap_ a little harsher. The cotton starts to itch against my skin, and I find myself scratching my thigh as we ride. I had little choice in the matter of changing my wardrobe. My armor would have offered no protection from the harsh heat and sand of Hammerfell, and I most likely would have come down with a form of the brown plague. So, I bought some Hammerfell garb, Redguard boots, and a Alik'r hood. The outfit is horribly uncomfortable, but it's done its job amazingly. It's kept me from overheating, and I don't have to worry about sand finding its way into my vulnerable lungs.

My horse suddenly whinnies, and it's clear why. A herd of cows is nearby, and they're slowly walking this way. I doubt the cows could harm us, but my horse apparently doesn't like them. However, this is a good sign for me. Cows mean farmers. Farmers tend to know one another. If I can find the farmer who owns these cows, then I can ask if he knows where the Ajiva family farm is. I turn my horse in the directions of the cows and urge him on. I find the Redguard woman near the back of the herd, steadily pushing her beasts to slaughter.

I whistle in greeting before I reach her, and the woman whistles back. When I near her she lazily flicks her hand and questions, "Are you Kematu's daughter? He still needs to give me back my damned horse he 'borrowed'.". I'm assuming Kematu is a Dunmer, so I go ahead and explain the situation. "No, I have absolutely no idea who Kematu is. But I need to know where a particular family of Khajiit live.". The Redguard is still focused of driving her herd, but she answers me after she's assured all the animals are moving. "The Ajiva family or the Xahan family? Those are the only two that live out here, and the Xahan family is nearly bankrupt. So, if you're here to collect some money from them you'd best give up.".

I shake my head. "The Ajiva family. Do you know where they are?". The woman nods, looks up at the sun, and points in a specific direction. "Go straight that way until you hit the graves, then go northwest until you hit the barn. You should be able to see the farmhouse from there, so it shouldn't be that hard.". I nod and point my horse in that direction, then hit it on the ass. As it speeds off the Reguard screams after me, "Good luck!". I don't have time to ask what she means, but I don't like the sound of that. It takes me an hour of riding before I hit the graves, and even then I nearly trample them. I yank on my horse's reins at the last moment and the creature rears us and slightly moves backwards, barely avoiding stomping on the makeshift headstones.

I remember the directions the woman gave me, but I still slide off of my horse. I see five of the wooden headstones are marked with the symbol of Zenithar, and eight of them are marked with the symbol of Mara. A long lost conversation swims to the surface of my mind. '_Eight dead daughters, five dead sons_'. I go over to where the men are lined up, kneel down, and read the name of the dead. _Ji'bar Ajiva_. A small inscription is below it. _Beloved son and brother, died of taking too much of his sweet poison. _This would be the brother that overdosed.

I move on to the next man's grave. _Bhivassa Ajiva. Loved son, brother, and father, died trying to avenge his deceased sisters. _This would be the brother who tried to kill the cartel dealers who smashed in his sister's skulls. The next one is smashed up right beside his brother, and it's clear they died at the same time. _Ja'amha Ajiva. A brave son and loving father, died beside Bhivassa. _I hold back my mumble of 'idiot', and go to the next grave. _Droaverr Ajiva. A boy who never got a chance to live, died in the crib. _A sad fate, but not one that's uncommon to farmer's children. The last son has a faded tombstone, and it's clear he's been gone the longest. _Joshjhan Ajiva. A hard-worker, faithful husband, and strong father, killed by a mule's kick to the skull. _

Well, there's the five dead sons. I move over to the sisters, my horse snorting in boredom. _Bhisirra Ajiva_, _Tsanasma Ajiva_, and _Dro'mba Ajiva_ are all buried so close together their tombstones are touching, and it's obvious they all died on the same day if not the same hour. When I read their inscriptions it becomes clear why. Bhisirra is a _Wonderful daughter and devoted wife, died with sweet poison on her tongue_. Tsanasma was a _Dutiful daughter, loving mother, and caring wife, killed when the liquid of life clogged in her throat_. Finally, before she died Dro'mba was an _Amazing daughter, too young to take care of herself and died without her sisters_.

The two daughters who overdoes, and apparently took one of their sisters with them. It seems the poor child wasn't able to fend for herself, and died of neglect. I suppose there are worse ways to die. Like the next two daughters who are buried together. _Do'isa Ajiva_ and _Tsarssi Ajiva_. Do'isa's tombstone reads _A hard-working mother and daughter, died by the damned Argonian cartel_. And, Tsarssi's grave tells _The best wife in the world and smart as a whip, died by Do'isa's side_. Sad fates all around. Although quite a few of them sound weird. I might have to ask for their stories later. I move onto the next two graves. Damn, did all these daughters just get together and say 'let's die at the same time'?

_Ahnmuzi Ajiva_ was a _Kind and brave warrior, loved daughter, and young mother. Drowned trying to save Vajarra Ajiva_. The tombstone beside her tells me how good of a job she did. _Vajarra_ _Ajiva_ was apparently _A loved little girl gone too soon_ and _Drowned while playing by the riverbank_. All of the daughters are sad stories, but at least I know where my maid got her namesake. I still find it a little morbid to name a child after its dead sibling, but I'm not one to judge. I've never had children, and I've never lost one. I'm about to leave when I see the smallest grave of all. It's off to the side, and this one's different than all the rest. It still has flowers adorning it.

The flowers are slightly wilted, but they aren't completely dead. Someone's been here recently, and they left quite the assortment. Roses, daisies, daffodils, and any other bright flower available. The plants are nearing death, so it's obvious the person who left them has been gone for a while. As I walk over I feel a twinge of pity in my heart. This babe has been dead for twenty years, and the maid still left flowers on her grave. She even made sure to leave some before she was forced to leave because of her mother, and that's dedication. I kneel beside the tombstone, and read the inscription. _Anurzhinda Ajiva_ is _A child never known but loved nonetheless, survived by her twin_.

Beneath this dirt lies a babe who came into the world with my maid. But while the maid was crying and kicking, her sister lied cold and quite. My maid was wrapped in a blanket and given to her mother, and her sister was given to a coffin and put in the ground. Anurzhinda is nothing more that ash and dust right now, and her sister is currently trapped by their mother. With that in mind I stand, remount my horse, and rush off in the direction I was told the farm was in. On the way I pass fields of corn, barley, wheat, soybeans, hay, cotton, and indigo. All of the fields are relatively small, so they can easily be managed by a single family.

I finally reach the barn that Redguard told me about. I get off my horse and lead him inside, tying him beside three mules, four donkeys, and five tremendous beasts I barely classify as 'horses'. The barn itself is ancient and hunched, but it'll hold the animals in. I go back outside and look around. The farmhouse is only a short walk away, and it's easily able to spot. As I walk over I look up at the sky. It's the middle of the day, which is good for me. If I'd come in the middle of the night I might have gotten shot full of arrows before I could make it. When I get close the door opens, and a man who looks almost identical to my maid greets me. He steps out onto the porch, closes the door, and patiently waits for me to arrive.

When I reach him he tips his head and greets, "Good evening. How can this one be of service?". I ask, "Are you the husband of Ma'aji Ajiva?". He shakes his head and tells me, "Son.". He suddenly looks concerned, "Did something happen to her?". I shake my head and promise, "She's still alive, but I need to speak with your father about a certain matter.". The boy's face falls and he looks at the ground as he whispers, "Ma'aji found her, didn't she?". I bite back my surprise and answer, "Yes, your mother found her.". The boy nods and whispers again, "Follow me.". He opens the door and disappears inside the house.

The boy leads me through the small farmhouse, and along the way I see three of the maid's sisters and two of her brothers. I'm not sure where the others are, but I have more important things to focus on at the moment. We finally stop at a decrepit red door. The boy reaches out and knocks on the peeling paint, and a voice croaks from within, "Come on.". The blue Khajiit stands back, motions at the door, and tells me, "Go in.". I nod and step inside the room, closing the door behind me. A rotting bed is shoved in the corner, an ancient writing desk is beside the door, the windows are boarded up, and a table takes up the center of the room. There are two chairs that go with the table, and one of them is currently taken up with what I assume is the maid's father.

He's a large, muscular, broad-shouldered man who's obviously spent all of his life attached to a farm. His pelt is absolutely nothing like his daughter's, and I thank the gods she didn't inherit it. The man's brown fur is ragged, patchy, and gives off the feeling of rarely being washed. The scars on his nose are deep, and I can't imagine what creature gave him them. His tremendous hands are resting on the table, his black daggers he calls claws on display. When he hears me come in he flicks his ears, and I notice one of them is absolutely shredded. However, his most noticeable feature is his eyes.

Well, more like _lack_ of eyes. Two empty sockets look back at me. The man suddenly twitches, and one of his hands disappears in a bag beside him. The man pulls out a strip of cloth and begins tying it around his head, blocking his sockets. "I'm sorry, I usually have this on before guests come in.". He picks up a strange book that was on the table and puts it in his bag. I move and get myself settled, and ask, "How did you know I was a guest and not one of your children?". He chuckles before answering. "My daughters and sons are numerous, and nothing happens around here without everyone knowing. While you spoke to my son my eldest daughter eavesdropped, and told me what was coming moments before you and my son arrived.".

I nod in understanding, then realize he can't see and tell him, "I see.". Oh fuck. I quickly try to apologize, but I can practically feel the Khajiit's amusement as he assures me, "Just act as if I'm not blind.". I nod again, then curse myself and say aloud, "Okay.". The man nods and begins the conversation. "Are you here about my absolutely _lovely_ wife?". He practically hisses the last three words, and I question back, "Was she the one who took your eyes?". He nods and growls, "And, a bit more.". I dare to ask, "What else could she have taken?". I realize too late and curse myself. However, the man simply answers, "My leg.".

I look under the table and see a stump where his left leg should be. I come back up and dumbly tell him, "Oh, I thought you were talking about something else. Not that a leg isn't bad, it's just-". I stop when I see the Khajiit smile. He lets out a little chuckle and says, "She took those to, but I'm more concerned with my ability to get around than my ability to father children.". He loses his smile. "Speaking of children, I believe my wife has found the one I tried to free?". I agree, "Your wife tracked her down to Whiterun, and she's currently holding her captive. Well, as captive as is legal.". The man sighs and mumbles, "I should have prevented this.".

He shakes his head and asks, "What do you need to know?". I feel my heartbeat pick up as I answer, "Everything about your wife and daughter.". He recoils a little and answers, "It's not exactly a pretty tale.". I promise him, "I knew it wouldn't be, and that's why I came here.". He nods again in understanding and tells me, "Okay. Just tell me when you're ready, and I'll say all that needs to be said.". I lean back, get comfortable, and whisper, "I'm ready.".


	23. The Fool

The man before me looks uncomfortable as he begins, "My wife always obsessed over our last little girl. It made her older children jealous and resentful, but she never seemed to care. I suppose it was always odd, but I never dug too much into it. My first two wives never even spoke to their children, so I suppose I was just glad that my wife was taking an interest in her daughter. It never seemed too odd, and I always just chalked it up to my wife favoring our youngest.". He looks absolutely broken as he mumbles, "Then, that day happened.". He takes a moment to compose himself and I question, "What day?". His claws _scratch_ against the wood as he hisses, "The day after my daughter turned eleven years of age.".

I can't hold back my revulsion. "_Eleven_?!". He nods and assures me, "I warned you it wasn't a pretty story. My daughters went out to fix the fences that keep our crops from being eaten, my sons went to drive some cows to slaughter, and I went into town to sell some crops. Ma'aji was suppose to come with me, but she insisted on staying home. It was some excuse about needing to clean the house. The place was always clean, but I didn't question it. The sons left with me early in the morning, and the daughters waited a few hours with Ma'aji. It wasn't until later I found out Ma'aji had sent all of her daughters away early.".

He takes a moment to pause and I fill in, "All but one.". He agrees, "All but one. We both know who remained.". I agree, "I know.". He continues with his tale, "I was the first to return home. I found Ma'aji happier than she'd been in years, she even dipped into her favorite beer to treat herself. When I got home she practically picked me up and spun me around the house in giddiness. At the time I absolutely adored my wife, and I was just happy she was happy. That was until I entered our bedroom.". Even without his eyes I can tell he would be crying if he could, and now he has a quiver in his voice as he continues the story. "My youngest daughter was huddled up on our bed.".

He points to the rotten one in the corner. "Her eyes were puffy like she'd just finished weeping, and her clothes had scratches all over them.". He swallows and brings his right hand up to his upper left arm, making clawing motions as he resumes speaking. "She'd ripped her own arm open, and she was still scratching when I went over to her.". Another swallow. "I stopped her and it was like she _just_ noticed me. She looked ready to burst into tears. When I asked her why she was clawing her own arm she just whimpered and told me that 'she'd been bad'.". He looks almost disgusted as he tells me, "I did the stupidest thing ever in response to that.".

I guess, "You ignored it?". He shakes his head. "I picked my daughter up, cradled her, and took her to Ma'aji. I demanded to know what in the oblivion was going on, and why my daughter was shredding her own arm.". He shakes his head for a second time. "I was blind even back then. Well, figuratively. Ma'aji claimed her daughter had shattered a plate while helping her with the dishes. I swallowed the lie and went back to business. Before I left Ma'aji casually claimed she wanted to hold our child, and that she would clean up the little girl's arm.". I swallow and finish, "She didn't, did she?". He nods and agrees, "The scratches were worse than ever when I got back, but they'd at least stopped bleeding.".

"That night I tried to enter this very room to sleep. My wife shoved a pillow, a blanket, and my comb into my hands. She told me to sleep on the couch and that our daughter was so distraught she needed to sleep in the same bed as her.". He looks more broken than ever as he whispers, "I was a fool.". He continues his tale. "I'd be sleeping on the couch for the next nine years, and things only got worse for my little girl. She was never an outgoing girl, but it was like she clammed up on herself. She lost all interest in anything. She did her chores, helped when she was needed, and showed up to meals. That was it.".

"She barely talked to her siblings, never interacted with me, and disappeared to her room whenever she wasn't needed. We all loved her with every bit of our hearts, but she didn't want to interact with us. The only person she wanted to be around was Ma'aji. Somehow a few of her siblings worked their way into her heart, but never all of them. Just enough to keep her from purely living for Ma'aji. Over the years I noticed something. Bruised would appear on my child's face, but they were always covered by her fur. Hidden. Scratches and cuts would litter her skin, and she was always careful to keep them a secret. But the most disturbing thing was what my child did to herself. She shredded any doll given to her, broke any present, and would claw herself if there was nothing to take her rage out on.".

"It was always a quiet temper. One she made sure to clean up before anyone really noticed.". I swallow a lump and croak, "Were there any other signs?". He nods and continues. "She had absolutely no self-esteem, and never believe she could do even the simplest of tasks right. If I'm being honest it bordered on self-hatred. It was clear to every one of us that she had depression. She also seemed to feel guilt about everything. And, she even confided in her brother she felt shameful about anything. Not to mention that if anything went wrong she blamed herself. Even if it was beyond her control.".

"She could never get to sleep, and if she did she was plagued with night terrors. Nothing would help her, and I almost always heard her begin crying around the early hours of the morning. Ma'aji strictly forbid me from entering the bedroom. I was still in love and blind, so I allowed it. My child also lacked trust, and insisted on doing everything herself.". I dare to ask, "What changed?". His claws dig into the wood. "I caught them.". I just need a little more and I can run back to Skyrim and arrest that bitch. "What did you catch them doing?". He snarls, "You and I know.". I agree, "I know, but I need to hear it.".

His claws are ruining the wood as he hisses, "I caught my wife brutally raping my daughter up the ass. And, when I confronted her she bragged she'd been doing it since our child was eleven.". A part of me cringes in disgust, but a larger part is relieved. However, the man continues, "That's why we sent her to Skyrim.". I pause and question, "We?". He nods. "Do you think I kept that information to myself? I told everyone I knew, and begged for help. Every farmer around here gave me as much gold as they could spare, and so did my children. We sent my child away with a thousand gold, three bottles of skooma, two bags of moon sugar, and a steel dagger. Our finest treasures and almost all of our savings.". I inform him, "It didn't work out as well as you had hoped it would.". He nods in agreement.

"Ma'aji was furious when she woke up and our daughter was gone. She went into an absolute rage. She did,". He motions at his entire body. "this to me, burned down three of our fields, and took our fastest horse from the barn. I never imagined she would make it all the way to Skyrim, or even find our daughter.". He sighs. "It was all my fault. I should have told my daughter to go to Elsweyr, or Black Marsh. Oblivion, The Summerset Isles would have been perfect! I'm a damned fool for sending her to the province right beside us.". I don't bother telling him it was my letter that got Ma'aji to come to Whiterun.

Instead, I question, "Can you come back with me and tell the Jarl of Whiterun what your wife did, and what you've seen? That's the only way your daughter will be free.". He nods and complies, "If you have a horse that can survive the ride and enough gold to get us to Skyrim, then I'll happily go. Can my son accompany me? He was the only one my daughter was ever close to, and she might open up to him. Actually, can a few of my children come? They won't all go at the same time, but we need people there.". I question, "How many?". He estimates and answers, "Not counting my son, two.". I tell him, "Okay, go tell them what to do. I'll be out in the barn waiting for you.". I get up and leave, a sickening feeling in my gut.

I'm only in the barn a few moments when the man and his son arrive. The boy is surprisingly small compared to his father. His pelt is also different than the man who sired him. It's a thin and silky mottled pale gray, and I have to bite my tongue before I ask 'Did one of your buddies visit your house a lot before your wife got pregnant?'. The son in question looks up at me and his dazzling, clear blue eyes startle me. He flicks his short, slender tail in a sort of greeting. The boy's father is leaning against his son's skinny shoulders. The boy sighs and slightly shifts beneath his dad's weight, and the child's strong, lean muscles are the only thing similar to his dad's.

A scar running down his face is the only thing that prevents him from being absolutely beautiful. The son turns his father towards me, and the man announces, "I don't believe you ever got my name. I'm Vassakhar, and this is my son Zoaadirr.". Zoaadirr nods at me and says, "We'll ride our fastest horse and follow you, but we might lag behind.". I nod in understanding and promise, "I'll try to go at a decent pace.". I mount my horse and the men do the same. Zoaadirr is controlling the steed, and his father is hanging on for dear life. I nod to them and slap my horse on the ass, speeding away. I need to get back to Skyrim. Quick.

* * *

><p><strong>Ma'aji POV:<strong>

My daughter is a limp doll beneath me, and she doesn't show the slightest interest in the fucking I'm giving her. I feel rage grip my stomach as I extend my claws further, tearing into her cunt's walls. She whimpers and begins to move slightly, but that's it. I sigh and lean down, sinking my fangs into the child's shoulder. A whimpered, "_Mother_.". I smile and release her, moving upwards to trap her lips in a kiss. She's absolutely unresponsive. Like a corpse. I sigh again and pull back, using my other claws to slash her chest.

More whimpering. I finally give up. My wrist is sore and my mouth is filled with blood. When I pull back my daughter rolls onto her side, curls up on herself, and begins to quietly cry. I roll my eyes and clean myself up, then return to bed with the Khajiit. I push her over and climb in beside her, wrapping my child in my arms. Within a few minutes she's asleep, the day too exhausting to withstand. I smile and close my eyes, planning on joining the woman in her slumber. Absolutely perfect.


	24. Growing Up

**Dovahkiin POV:**

I wake up with my mother's arms wrapped around me. I don't move in the slightest. I don't even dare to breathe too hard. When my mother wakes up I feel her lean over and plant a kiss behind my ear. I haven't even opened my eyes, so I keep them tightly closed. I also keep my breathing as calm and controlled as I possibly can. If I'm lucky Ma'aji will continue to believe I'm fast asleep, and she'll let me stay that way for a short while. Even a short while is better than nothing at all. My mother swallows the bait and allows me to continue to 'sleep'. However, I feel her hands begin moving along my sides. Another kiss behind the ear. She's attempting to wake me up in her favorite way.

I pretend to mumble in my sleep, and move away from my mother slightly. Ma'aji's claws slide out, and they begin to slightly press down and prick the flesh of my sides. She doesn't want me to get away, and I can already tell she's going to be more persistent. My guess isn't wrong, and I knew it wouldn't be. I've been in this position too many times before, and I already know most of the steps of this fucked up dance my mother likes. I pretend to be asleep, she falls for it, and promptly wakes me up so she can fuck me. Back home she always had to be quick for fear of my father or siblings hearing or walking in, but here she has all the time in the world.

My mother leans in and nips my ear, drawing blood in the process. I can't pretend to be asleep any longer, or else she'll realize I was faking all of this time. I don't even want to _begin_ to image what she would do to me then. I sigh and slowly turn around, my mother's naked form greeting me. Her bright blue eyes and roaming up and down my body. On instinct I bring my tail around my hip to drape over my cunt, and use my right arm to hide my tits from view. Ma'aji rolls her eyes and reaches out, gently grabbing the side of my head. I consider yanking back when she leans in, but she must know my thoughts because she tightens her grip.

I close my eyes as my own mother roughly kisses me, her thumb popping open my jaws. I mentally retreat upon myself, and try to image myself in a better place. Irileth comes to mind, and I remember the times we spent together. Up on the mountain, out on the great porch, and in her bed at night. It doesn't help in the slightest. Actually, it makes everything so much worse. My mother has forbidden me from seeing the Dunmer ever again, I blatantly lied to the housecarl's face, and now I'm having thoughts about the Dunmer while my mother's tongue attempts to fuck my mouth. Ma'aji begins forcing me onto my back, and she easily rolls on top of me. She never breaks the kiss in the slightest.

I close my legs as tightly as I can, but it only seems to encourage my mother. She slides down my body and grabs my thighs, her claws digging into my vulnerable flesh and causing me to bleed. She forcibly spreads my legs and reveals my cunt, the woman smiling as she leans down. I bring my own hands up to my head, grab my skull (the area right below my ear), and let my claws slide out of their sheathes. My nails are nothing compared to my mother's, but they're still sharp as knives and wickedly long. I sink my own claws into my flesh, yanking downwards as harshly and rough as I can. Blood swells where my claws have shredded, but I don't pay it any mind.

Ma'aji's rough tongue has begun to lick my dry cunt, and I _need_ something to distract me from her. I stick out my left arm and find the scars where I've done this so many times before. I sink my right hand's claws into the flesh, and start clawing the meat of my arm. Blood reveals itself and pain shoots through every nerve of my body, but I don't stop. My vision begins to blur from the burning tears in my eyes, but I can't tell if they're from my clawing or my mother. Ma'aji brings one of her hands up and sinks the digit into my cunt, her tongue never stopping in the slightest. If it was anyone else it would be pleasurable, but somehow the fact it's my mother has dampened the fucking.

My mother gently shushes me. "Hush honey, let mommy take care of you.". I dig my nails in harder. I deserve this. For some reason I fucked up in life, and this is just everything getting back to me. As Ma'aji begins to pick up the pace I remember what my father told me the night he sent me away. 'What she's doing to you is wrong. It's not how a mother and daughter are suppose to behave. You can't stay here, or you'll never be free of her. And, there's always the chance she'll snap and hurt you. _Please_. You have to leave. I'll distract her for as long as I can. Run. Run and never come back here. Go to Skyrim. It's not too far away, and your mother will never think to look for you there.'

'You're meant for so much more than toiling away on a farm for the rest of your life. I'm not sure what you'll do, but I know you'll be the best at it. I've been an absolutely terrible father, and I'm sorry. But this is the one thing I know is right for you. Go. Go and never return.'. I did what I was told, and I used all of our money escaping. Now I'm exactly where I was, only now I'm in a freezing wasteland. I close my eyes and pretend to moan in pleasure as I fake my crescendo of pleasure. My mother pulls back with a grin on her face, rubs my shoulder, and tells me, "Come on, we need to get you cleaned up. You have work to get to.". I nod, and allow her to help me up. It's not the first time I've allowed her to get her way. And, it sure as oblivion won't be the last.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

I whip my horse's ass faster, encouraging the beast to head back to the tiny farmhouse. A sand storm is brewing behind us, and I don't want to be caught in the mix. Zoaadirr and Vassakhar are right beside me, but their horse is panting and barely able to run. When we finally reach the farm I blow by the barn, but the two Khajiit stop. I come to a halt on their porch, and anxiously wait for them. The two return with all of their animals behind them. I step aside and allow them through. I dismount and ask, "Can my horse come in?". Vassakhar response, "Of course.". I guide my horse inside, and secure the door behind me. The siblings are already at work.

The Khajiit shoot back and forth across the house, fortifying every inch so sand can't find its way into their home. They're _just_ finished when a howl announces the storm arriving. I sigh and Vassakhar limps over to me, using his son as a crutch. When he's near me he reaches out, finds my shoulder, and pats it as he assures me, "The storm won't last long. Come one, we need to eat dinner before bed. My children already had it prepared, and I'm sure there's enough for you. You can sleep in my daughter's old room since she isn't here at the moment.". As I follow him into the kitchen I question, "She had her own room?".

When I enter the kitchen I take a moment to look around. A box of ice in one corner, a cooking spit in the other, and a bloody table in between them. The dining table takes up the other side of the room, and it's surrounded by fifteen chairs. There are only twelve children and one parent remaining, so there should be enough room for me. There's even a chair left over. I sit down beside the father, and when he realizes I've taken a seat he quietly explains, "Ma'ahi's idea. We have four bedrooms. One for the sons, one for the daughters, one for the parents, and a guest room. Ma'aji insisted our youngest daughter move into the guest room.". I nod and don't make him say the rest.

Ma'aji wanted her daughter to have the guest room so she could fuck her in peace, it wouldn't look suspicious, and nobody could accuse her of doing anything with her daughter. I'm certain the maid was given orders to go to her mother's room, but she'd have to pretend like she had a nightmare or something. Ma'aji is far too smart and clever. Not a soul alive would question a distraught daughter needing to go to her mother's room for comforting. I mentally cringe at the 'comforting' Ma'aji probably gave her little girl. Everyone is seated besides one of the sons, and that's only because he's slowly and carefully serving everyone their meal.

The decent meal consist of a thick slab of steak, some mashed potatoes with salt, and mead. Everyone falls silent as they eat, Vassakhar carefully eating his meal with the occasional assistance of his son. When we're done eating Vassakhar tells Zoaadirr, "Take our guest to her room. Make sure she's comfortable, just in case the storm goes on longer.". Zoaadirr nods and stands, motioning for me to follow him. He takes me down the same hallway his brother did, but this time we pass his father's room. We pass two more doors before coming to a halt, and the man motions to the door at the end of the hall. When I step forward he leaves, obviously anxious to do whatever these people do after dinner.

I open the door and step inside, but it's pitch black. I sigh and use a mage light spell. The room is drowned in light, and I nearly scream. It's like a child's bedroom, as if the maid never grew up and tried to run away from her mother. I slowly step into the tiny space, and look at the environment my maid was forced to live in for most of her life. The walls are painted a gentle lilac color, all the furnishing is an off white, and the bed sheets are a slightly deeper purple. Remnants of childhood remain in the middle of the floor. A bijou toy boat with a water stained bottom, a tiny tea set only small fingers could use, a little female warrior who's lost her sword, a wooden horse who sits beside his figurine female rider, and three dolls who sit by one another.

I go over and kneel down beside the toys, examining them. The boat is busted, the cups are all cracked or chipped, the warrior has her face clawed off, the horse is missing a leg while his rider doesn't have an upper body, and the dolls are all scratched and broke. I hear a voice behind me start, "I should have warned you.". I turn and see Zoaadirr standing there with a pillow. "My mother never allowed her daughter to grow up. She could grow as tall as she wanted, but Ma'aji never allowed her to mature. It's fucked her up, and it's one of the reasons I'm glad she ran. And, why I'm glad you're going to get her away from Ma'aji.". He looks afraid, "You _are_ going to get her away from Ma'aji, right?".

I nod and promise him, "I'll save her. Why did Ma'aji do this?". He answers, "Made my sister easier to control. Easier to use. And, I also think it made my sister less willing to fight back. If Ma'aji could always keep her mentally a child, then she would always feel powerless and unsure of what's going on. It's easy for an adult to look at this situation and go 'it was rape', but in a child's eye it's 'I misbehaved and deserve this'. It's screwed my sister up, and it's definitely impeded her mental growth.". I picked up a doll to look at and I whisper, "Why did she do this?". Zoodirr answers, "We both know why.". She was mad at herself, and took it out on whatever she could. And, I'm certain that included herself. I let the doll slip from my hand as I command, "Get our horses ready. You and I are leaving. Now.".


	25. Corruption of the Soul

**Dovahkinn POV:**

I work at a slower pace than usual, but it's for a justified reasons. When I'm done cleaning Ma'aji commanded me to return to her room in The Bannered Mare. And, we both know I have no choice but to walk down to the inn, go into her room, and wait until the next morning. Then, I'll return to work and the cycle will repeat itself. If I just keep cleaning, then I won't have to return to my mother as soon. I know her, and the smile on her face when she left told me that something was going to happen to me the second I entered her domain. Right now I'm wiping off Irileth's table. But the wooden surface only has so many dirty spots, and eventually I have to accept it's clean.

I sigh and put my cleaning cloth in my pocket, then lean against the wood as I examine the room. Neat, organized, and spotless. Irileth will come in and ruin it within three seconds of her arrival. I shake my head and chuckle at the memory of how unclean my partner likes her living space. Well, how unclean my ex-partner likes her living space. Ma'aji has made it clear I'm not going to see the Dunmer ever again. Now all I have to do is tell the elf that. A lump lodges itself in my throat. Irileth was the first good thing to happen to me for a while, and now my own mother is determined to take her away from me. Damned bitch. I swallow the lump in my throat.

At least Irileth isn't here at the moment. I at least have a few more days of pretending I'm still with her before the Dunmer turns up, and I have to tell her that it isn't working out between us. What in oblivion can I tell her that she'll believe, and won't write off as my mother controlling me? Maybe I can claim something so insulting and hurtful that she'll become angry, and won't miss me when I'm gone. My mind instantly comes up with a cliché, but it'll work. I'll claim it's because she's a Dunmer, and I'm a Khajiit. Or I could simply claim that it's because she works for the Jarl. No, the first one sounds better. I nod to myself, pleased with the excuse I'm going to use to break things off with Irileth.

The woman won't even miss me when I've left her. But now I have another problem. How much I'm going to miss my partner. Why did it have to end this way? I must have done something shitty in a past life to deserve this, but it still upsets me. Why couldn't my mother have ended up never finding me? She would have eventually given up, returned home, and lived the rest of her life satisfying herself by torturing some poor animals to death. The animals she hurts might not appreciate it, but it's better than what my mother would do to me. I shake my head and look out the window. Night. My shift is over, the room is clean, and my mother is going to get restless if I don't return to her soon. I sigh, put everything away, and head back to the inn.

* * *

><p>When I enter the room my mother is already prepared for my arrival. She locks the doors, makes me close my eyes, and hides the key. When I open my eyes the key is hidden, and my mother is already getting naked. I sigh and shed my robes. In my mind I desperately try to be anywhere but here. It starts to work, but then my mother kisses me and everything returns to normal. Ma'aji eventually retreats backwards a few inches, then taps my shoulders and commands, "Down.". I relent and slide to my knees. Something cold and metal brushes my lips as I roll my eyes back beneath my lids in a vane attempt to block out the situation. "Open.".<p>

I spread my jaws and allow my mother to shove the fake cock in my mouth and down my throat, effectively blocking off my airway. When I was a child I would always panic and fight to get away, but by now I've learned something important. Fighting only encourages Ma'aji to make the metal in my throat stay there longer, and fighting takes up my precious oxygen supply. Besides, my mother only thrusts into my throat a few times before she's appeased. She steps backwards and the device slides out of my mouth, a trail of slobber connecting the fake cock to my lips. "Ass, throat, or cunt?". I swallow, take a brief moment to catch my breath, and whisper, "Cunt.".

She lightly slaps the back of my head when I hesitate. When I hesitate more she sighs and commands, "Up on the bed, hands and knees like a bitch.". Without any more hesitation I slide onto the mattress, already fearing what my mother will do if I don't get moving. I feel two hands come to rest on my shoulders as Ma'aji positions herself. Finally, I feel the slobbered on metal find my entrance, the tip piercing my cunt. My mother's claws dig into my flesh as she thrust her hips, her fake cock only sinking an inch or two into me. I'm tense, far from aroused, and my cunt is dry as the deserts of Hammerfell. It's no wonder Ma'aji is having trouble fucking me.

However, it doesn't seem to deter the woman in the slightest. In anything it encourages her. Her claws dig in deeper than ever before, she curses, and thrusts into me with enough force to push me slightly forward. I cry out and instinctively begin fighting to get away from the pain coming from my cunt. Ma'aji shushes me and warns, "If the innkeeper comes up here, then you and I both know what will happen.". Ma'aji will feed her some excuse, then I'll get beaten the second the innkeeper is gone and no longer a problem. I nod and quiet down. I can feel my mother nod as she says, "Good, now relax. This'll hurt less if you aren't so tense.". It's the advice she's given me a thousand times, and I still can't follow it.

Only after a few seconds of cursing and shoving I feel my mother's hips against my ass, the device securely inside me. I closed my eyes the second she began, but now I'm able to slowly open them as I struggle to breathe. Tears blur my vision and fall onto the bed, and my breathing becomes gasps and pants. My tense arms are shaking, and my claws have shredded the bed. A hand runs down the length of my spine as the culprit whispers, "I love you.". I swallow and wheeze, "I love you.". As the woman's hips begin to move she promises, "I love you more than my own skin.". I swallow and whisper, "I love you more than my own heart.". My mother's claws dig in deeper as she begins thrusting like mad.

It takes her a moment, then she finishes, "I love you more than my own soul.". As we both go silent the sound of sex fills the room. Panting, grunts, occasional curse words, the creaking of the bed, and that squelching sound that comes from my cunt and always makes me feel like a whore. I feel Ma'aji grab me, and I sigh as she flips me over. My claws _rip_ the mattress, she bangs my head against something, and the fake cock painfully scratches the walls of my cunt. But my mother wants to look at me while we fuck, and what my mother wants my mother gets. However, as I look up at her something unexpected happens. A banging begins on the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

"_LET_. _ME_. _IN_.". Zoaadirr and Vassakhar are standing right behind me, and look rather unsure what to do. It's like they can't make up their minds if they want to help or not. I decide for them when I shove them out of the way, back up, and charge at the door. I slightly jump at the last second, slamming my shoulder against the door. It shivers, but doesn't budge. I scream and begin throwing myself against it with all my might, screaming every foul name I can think of in reference to Ma'aji. Vassakhar turns to his son and asks, "What's wrong?". The boy is holding his father up as he explains, "The door is bared and Irileth is going to break her shoulder trying to get in.

Sure enough, my shoulder in starting to ache. I stumble back and begin kicking, the door groaning beneath my feet. What was it that Balruuf told me about breaking down a door? Aim for the handle? I smash my foot against the handle and yowl in pain. Definitely not the handle. I hold my foot and whimper as Zoaadirr offers, "I can help. Probably.". I point at the door and demand, "Help!". He nods and positions himself in front of the door (after carefully leaning his dad against the wall), then lashes out with his leg and hits it. I'm not sure exactly where his foot struck, but it was the door's sweet spot.

It swings open and I yank him out of the way, jumping into the room with my sword out. _Almost_. _Almost_ enough. That's the thought that pounds through my mind as I watch the sight before me. My maid is curled up on the bed, fumbling to do the last button on her pants. Her mother is standing up beside her, rolling her shirt down so it covers her torso. I see a fake cock thrown in the corner, and I swear there's blood on the bed. _Almost_. But not enough. I could yank them up to Dragonsreach, put them before Jarl Balgruuf, and tell him what I've seen and what I suspected them of doing. It wouldn't be enough.

It wouldn't be enough because Ma'aji would come up with some excuse, the maid would agree with it, and then the two would be on their way. Only now Ma'aji would most likely flee the province, and her daughter would be forced at swordpoint to do with her. In the end I settle for shaking my head and putting my sword up. Ma'aji has finished dressing and is giving me a cruel smirk, but her daughter is still struggling to do the button of her pants. Without thinking I take a few steps forward and reach out. My maid recoils a little but I shush her, and insistently help her with her buttons. As I do it I look at the woman's face, and my stomach drops all the way to my feet. She looks like absolute shit.

I can see her face has been scratched, she has bags under her eyes, and a dark spot on the sleeve of her arm tells me she's bleeding. I wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear, "I'll save you. I promise.". I pull back and see tears in the woman's eyes. For a moment I think she'll break and tell me everything, but she doesn't budge. I pull back further and announce, "Zoaadirr, Vassakhar get your asses in here!". The two Khajiit come in, and the entire room seems to go silent.

Zoaadirr points his father's head in my maid's direction and Vassakhar whispers the woman's name when he realizes she's in the room. Slowly, Ma'aji inches towards her daughter. With a sickening smirk in the direction of her husband and son, Ma'aji reaches out and strokes her daughter's mane like the girl is a damned pet dog. The reaction from Zoaadirr is instant. He drops his father, roars, and launches himself at his mother. Damn.

* * *

><p><strong>Small update: On my decision to expand outside The Elder Scrolls universe. I'm still mulling over things, but here are a few of the options and my opinions. Just looking for feedback, and any thoughts or comments. This is only a small sample, there are plenty more. I'm just putting up the ones that got two or more suggestions. However, I could go any direction.<strong>

**1. Fallout. One of my buddies will almost never stop talking about this. Ever. Literally half of the conversations he has are about Fallout. It seems interesting, but I only have the vaguest of experiences with it. Mostly hearing chatter about it. I'd have to gain more knowledge about the series.**

**2. Halo. Again, a different friend of mine enjoys Halo. But another series I only have vague relations with. Currently awaiting the arrival of a game from the series to improve my knowledge, but it hasn't come yet.**

**3. Dragon Age. More vague relations, and the same buddy from number 2 urging me to get it. From what I've seen and heard it looks interesting.**

**4. A Song of Ice and Fire. Two years ago these were all I talked about, so I know a ton about them. A quick brush up and I'd be ready to write. However, I'm not certain if I want to go this direction. I don't really have a pairing that calls to me, and the characters are already so developed by George R. R. Martin.**

**5. Harry Potter. Another series I'm familiar with, but I fear I have bad memories of this one. Not because of anything in the series, but my ****fiancée at the time broke things off with me when I was halfway through them. I just got in a slump and connect 'Harry Potter' with 'remember that time you got dumped so badly you got physically sick'. However, I've gotten over the fiancée since then. Actually, I think I'd be good to go. Just another quick brush up, and I could get going. Probably the easiest to write, but it would once again be exclusive to femslash.**

**6. The Lord of the Rings. Don't shoot me, but this actually isn't my cup of tea. They're important works and beautifully written, but I just can't get into it. I've read them all, watched them all, and done everything, but I just _can't_ get into it. I don't think I'd be happy writing this, but you never know. Maybe if it's heavily requested or encouraged.**

**7. T̶w̶i̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶. Over my dead body.**

**So, tell me what you think. -KhajiitWarriorSam**


	26. At Long Last

Vassakhar falls to the ground as his son leaps away from him, and the man wisely scampers away to safety. Safety being the doorway. Zoaadirr continues his flight to his mother, but someone completely unexpected stops him. The maid roars and leaps, smacking into her brother midair. Ma'aji lets out a small chuckle and takes a few steps backwards, her children rolling around on the ground and hissing at one another as they fight. Zoaadirr begs, "Let me go! I'm saving you!". The woman ends up pinning her brother, and she hisses right in his face, "I don't want you to save me!". Vassakhar pipes in, "Of course you want to be saved, you've just been controlled by your mother for too long.".

Ma'aji smirks and taunts her husband, "So nice to see you again, Vassakhar. Good to see you're doing well.". The man shuts up and curls in on himself, his head slowly going back and forth as he tries to tell where his wife's voice is coming from. Zoaadirr finally bucks his sister off of him, and tries to fly at his mother for a second time. The maid catches him and the fight resumes, but it's becoming clear who's going to win. Eventually Zoaadirr is forced to retreat, huddling beside his father. Ma'aji walks over to her panting daughter (the maid is sitting on the ground now) and reaches out, stroking her mane as she whispers, "Good girl. Very good girl.".

I scream, "ENOUGH!". Everyone looks at me and I snarl, "You-". I point at Ma'aji, "Are being taken into arrest custody. You two-". I point at Vassakhar and Zoaadirr, "Are coming with me to speak to the Jarl. You-". I point at the maid, "Are being taken into protective custody. So in other words, me.". I pull out my sword and wave it around, then walk over to Ma'aji. The woman rolls her eyes as I 'arrest' her. All I can do is place my hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't fight me. The two male Khajiits get up, and get away from the door. I nod at them and begin leading Ma'aji away. Vassakhar and Zoaadirr follow us, and the maid makes up the tail end of our group.

A feeling of pride comes over me as we enter Dragonsreach. Balgruuf sees me and mumbles, "Oh dear lord.". I shove Ma'aji aside and demand, "Vassakhar, Zoaadirr! Come tell him what you've seen!". Zoaadirr leads his father up to Jarl Balgruuf, and now the man looks interested. He leans forward in his throne and questions, "Well? What have you seen?". Vassakhar swallows and asks, "Can my wife be moved away from me for the duration of the tale?". Balgruuf nods and a guard steps forward, standing in between the Khajiit. I feel someone by my side, and look to see the Khajiit glued to me. I follow her gaze and see Ma'aji's eyes burning into her daughter.

I reach out and wrap my arm around the maid. The woman turns and buries her head in my chest, and her father starts the story. It's the exact same one he told me, but he adds more detail to the end. "My daughter was sobbing and trying to get away as Ma'aji fucked her up the arse. I'd suspected it had been happening for years, but I was too naive to do anything. When I tried to help my daughter escape, Ma'aji mutilated me.". Balgruuf looks disgusted as he asks Zoaadirr, "Is this true?". When he nods the Jarl turns to the maid (still buried in my arm) and says, "Just one thing left. Just say yes, and we can haul your mother away. Refuse, and she'll be free.".

My maid swallows, and I know what comes next. She'll refuse, and I'll lose her. That's why I nearly balk when I hear a whispered, "Yes.". Ma'aji seems to tense, and I can see her eyes widen in shock. However, Balgruuf hasn't heard. "What?". I hear the woman take in a shuddering breath. I hug her as I tell him, "She said it once, don't make her say it again.". Balgruuf explains, "She has to, or else-". I feel the Khajiit's claws dig into my side as she roars loud enough for the dead to hear, "**YES**!". The entire room seems to freeze up, and I hear Ma'aji sigh as she snarls, "You shouldn't have said that.". The woman is suddenly and violently yanked from my side.

Ma'aji and her daughter disappear into a flurry of fur, limbs, and slashing claws. I hear two noises. Hisses of triumph, and yowls of pain. It's clear who's doing what. In an instant I demand, "Guards! Guards!". The one who was separating the Khajiit lunges for them, but the two instantly freeze up. Well, Ma'aji freezes up. She's crouched on the ground, and her own daughter's throat is wedged in between her fangs. It's like a wild wolf that's captured a rabbit, only in this case I care about the rabbit that might get its neck ripped open.

Everyone stops, and the Jarl advises, "Let her go. Nothing you do can stop this.". Ma'aji growls and bites down slightly, blood beginning to run down the maid's neck. Ma'aji slowly raises one of her hands, a dagger like claw coming to rest on her daughter's eye. I beg the woman, "Don't do this. You've damned your daughter to never know the love of a normal mother, don't damn her to a life with only one eye. Please.". The woman slowly backs her hand off, and I let out a small sigh of relief. That sigh turns into a scream when she swings her claw through the air like a trap, solidly landing two claws in her daughter's right eye. My scream mixes with that of the maid, Balgruuf, and Zoaadirr. Vassakhar is a little slow on the update, but eventually his scream joins all of ours.

Ma'aji flicks her ear in annoyance as she yanks her claw out of the woman's eye, splattering blood everywhere. She raises her hand to do it again, but I stop her. I hurdle myself through the air, solidly knocking Ma'aji off her daughter. Her teeth scratch the woman's throat a little, but not too badly. She'll live. I heave the woman up and command Balgruuf, "Get her to a healer, I'm taking Ma'aji here to jail.". He nods and I begin yanking the older Khajiit away. The woman was enraged when her daughter finally gave in, but now she's her normal calm and collected self. As we go to the prison I promise her something.

"You'll rot in there. The next time we arrested a big hairy brute of a warrior, I'll make sure to let her bunk with you. You made your daughter your bitch for ten years, it's only fair that the favor gets returned to you.". The woman chuckles (which disturbs and surprises me) and whispers, "You love her.". I nod and the woman continues, "She'll never love you back.". I shake my head, but the Khajiit struck a tender cord in my heart. I'm terrified the woman won't want to be with me after this. However, I shove down the feeling. I can't let Ma'aji see I'm sensitive on that subject. She'll only dig at it and anger me. But it's too late. The woman has seen my reaction, and she begins using it to her advantage.

"I'll always be her first. You can never change that. You can have another hundred years with her, but I'll always be the owner of her virtue. When you're pounding into her she'll be thinking of me. It doesn't matter it she wants to or not, I'll come to her mind. She'll remember all those years ago I laid her on my bed and ravished her like she was a queen.". I feel my hand tighten and quicken my steps. Hearing about her sexual experiences with the maid is making me uncomfortable, and I don't want to imagine this woman fucking an eleven-year old little girl. Ma'aji must know it upsets me because she continues talking, and doesn't leave out a single detail.

"You should have seen her. She was such a pretty little girl. Thin as a twig, tiny little tits, a nonexistent ass, and the tightest cunt in all of Hammerfell. Well, it _was_ the tightest cunt in all of Hammerfell. A few afternoons spent with her mother changed that. Now she only has one eye. It's such a shame I'm going to jail. Could you imagine what I could do to that empty eye socket?". I can't do it. I can't keep walking. I freeze, my hand now a vice around Ma'aji's arm. "Stop. Talking.". She chuckles and denies my request. "I wonder if my daughter will ever let you mount her? She likes it from behind like a bitch, but she'll take it whatever way you want. You just have to slap her hard enough.".

I repeat, "Stop. **Now**.". She once again ignores my command. "She likes a little hair pulling every now and then. You know she can take an entire fist up her ass? She can up her cunt to, but that's not as impressive. I'm pretty sure she can take a fist down her throat, but I've never tested that theory. Do tell me what you find out.". She goes silent and I begin walking again. When I reach the prison she starts talking again, "She'll never love you. You think she's even _capable_ of it after what she's been through? I've fucked her up.". I practically snarl, "You know what you did was wrong, and yet you still did it?". She laughs and confirms my fears.

"I know what I did was wrong, and I loved every. Single. Second. My only regret is I didn't start sooner, I was too cautious, and she grew up so fast. If I was smart I would have started the second she was six.". I feel vomit rise in my mouth as I tell her, "Sick! You're a sick fucker!". She agrees, "I'm a sick fucker, but I've had the woman's head buried beneath my thighs. Which one of us can say that?". I open a cell door and throw her in there. "Rot in here. I hope you get raped, beaten, and tortured to death. You deserve no less.". The woman walks up and leans against the bars, a smile on her face. I should leave. I should leave and comfort my partner, but I don't. Ma'aji's words are too sickening to leave.

"No matter what you do, she'll always be fucked up. Have you not seen her? She doesn't know how to interact with people. She's awkward, unable to stand physical contact, and doesn't know common social norms. And, she's a helpless little slut. If any problem comes along, she panics and freezes up. She's learned to be helpless, and she can't do anything right. You _really_ think you love her? She recoils from any touch, and she doesn't know how to interact with people. You think all of the shit I did to her only changed her in one way? She _never_ socialized with anyone. Imagine leaving a dog alone in a room for three years, then trying to put it in a normal pack of hunting hounds.".

"That's what it's like to be my daughter. All she knows is me. I'm her life, love, and world. Oblivion, I may as well be her _god_! Are you truly going to be able to stand her? I'll bet a thousand gold by the end of the month you've dumped her on her arse, and left her with nothing but the clothes on her back. Do you know what she'll do after that? She'll come running to me. And, I'll be waiting. Waiting to make her my bitch all over again.". I feel my anger rising as I whisper, "I love her.". She laughs, "She can't even feel love! I'm all she has! I'm the judge, jury, and executioner in her life!". I slam my fist against the bars and start going away. I have more important things to do.

* * *

><p><strong>Tiny little note: I know you just read one and you're probably not looking forward to it again, but suffer through. For me. Now, onto another matter. In precisely 30 days or so, the most important day of my life is happening (well, that's debatable on how important it is). It'll be going on for about a week or so. I'm not sure how many days it will take up, but it'll be a while. Thirteen days is probably the maximum, but it could be as low as four. Either way, expect a small update hiatus in a month. Nothing big, just a tiny pause. Trust me, you'll never know I was gone.<strong>

**Also, a new schedule for what I think is going to end first. 1. Maid in Whiterun. 2. The Path of Those Before Us (A New Order) 3. A Life Across the Ages. When I get down to 'A Life Across the Ages' I'm going to purely focus on it, update daily, and power through it. Then, I'm going to do another Elder Scrolls story. I've decided to limit myself to one story (for a brief period), but eventually I'll get back up to two. During this short one story drought, I'll be working on a secret project. I may or may not reveal it based on how things go. **

**When I get to the second story it will be set in another game or book that isn't Elder Scrolls related. ****I have no idea how long it will take, or what other game or book I'm going to choose. Just know that the ideas from last chapter are solidly in my head, boiling around and moaning in pain. I've been doing this since I first started writing 'Survivors', and I'm just going to have to power through a little longer. By 'a little longer' I could mean any amount of time. Two hours, two weeks, two years! I just truly don't know. Anyway, thanks for reading. -KhajiitWarriorSam**


	27. Learned Helplessness

I find Vassakhar, Zoaadirr, and my maid in Farengar's study. Vassakhar is sitting in a chair, and soft breathing tells me he's asleep. Damned bastard, how can he sleep at a time like this? I shake my head and look at Zoaadirr. The boy is awkwardly leaning against the wall, his eyes flicking anywhere that isn't his sister. The woman is looking at the wall. A blanket is wrapped around her shoulders, and she's clutching onto it like a life-preserver. I hesitantly go over and rest a hand against her shoulder. The Khajiit cringes in fear and I instantly remove my hand. "Sorry.". She clutches the blanket ever tighter around her as she mumbles recognition of my apology.

I look over at Zoaadirr and give him a questioning look. He yanks his head to the side and leaves the room. I instantly follow him after assuring the maid I'll return for her. I meet Zoaadirr waiting outside in the dining hall for me. When I near him he tells me, "She won't talk. She won't eat. She won't do anything besides look at the wall and tremble. That wizard came out of his room, looked her over, and brushed it off. When father tried to talk to her she swung at him, and she hisses at me. You're the first person she hasn't reacted violently to. Please, just get some food into her and get her to bed. She needs time to rest, and I'm certain Ma'aji didn't let her eat whenever she was around.".

I nod in agreement and question, "What's her favorite meal?". He shrugs. "She likes eggs and sausages for breakfast, but prefers steak and potatoes for dinner. Why?". I pat him on the shoulder and explain, "I don't want to ruin her favorite food for her. For the next few hours she'll connect almost anything with what her mother did to her.". I leave Zoaadirr and go find my maid some safe dog meat (I inwardly smirk at the irony) and mead. When I return the maid is looking at the ground, shielding herself from the world with her blanket. I gently put my hand on her knee and offer, "I brought you some food.". She waits for a few moments, then hesitantly takes the plate from my hands.

As she eats the food I lean down and whisper, "Would you like to sleep?". She nods and I offer, "I can get you a cot in the main hall, or you could sleep in the maids' hall.". She slowly swallows a bit of dog and mumbles, "Your room.". I nod and assure her, "I'll sleep in the dining-". Before I can say 'hall' she shakes her head and looks at me with pleading eyes. My heart sinks as I realize she's still terrified of her mother. I rub her shoulder and correct, "I'll be up in an hour or two.". The tension seems to drain out of her and she eats with a little more gusto, but there's still a large portion of food remaining when she hands me her plate. However, I don't pressure her to eat more.

I rub the woman's wrist and quietly ask, "Do you want me to walk you up to bed?". She shakes her head and rises, still clutching the blanket to her as she walks away. Instantly Farengar appears out of his room, looks around, and asks, "Is she gone?". I nod and motion to come out. When he does I grab him by the front of his robes and pull him towards me. "Why in oblivion are you not healing her?!". He raises his hands in defense and explains, "I can't just wave my hands and heal her. However, I _did_ notice something about her. I just couldn't say it around her. Put me down and I'll explain it to you.". I release him and snarl, "You'd better start explaining. Fast.".

He nods and walks over to his map of Skyrim. I wait a moment or two for him to unpin the map, turn in around, and pin it up again. He fetches a quill, then begins scribbling on the map. He draws a picture of a cat cramped into a box, spikes beneath the floor it stands on. The next picture he draws is the same cat, but this time the spikes have shot up into the floor and are stabbing the cat's paws. The beast's face is twisted in pain, but a lock on the box prevents it from escaping. He draws a third picture. A different cat in a box, spikes below. However, this box doesn't have a lid. The next picture shows the spikes coming up, and the cat jumping out.

Farengar draws three more pictures, but they're of the first cat. One picture shows the beast getting hit with the spikes, but this time he isn't trying as hard to escape. The second picture is the beast lying down in the box and covering his face with his paws, seeming to accept the fate of the spikes stabbing into his body. The final picture is of the same abused cat in a box without a lid, spikes shooting into its body. The box is opened, but the cat isn't jumping out. Instead, he's lying there in the same position as if the box was locked with a lid. Farengar smacks the drawings and begins speaking. "Learned helplessness.".

"It's a behavior in which an animal or person is forced to endure painful or unpleasant stimuli, and eventually becomes unable or unwilling to avoid subsequent encounters with those stimuli. They won't fight or flee, even if the situation is able to be escaped. Presumably, the animal or person has learned that it cannot control the situation and therefore does not take action to avoid the negative stimulus. A famous healer theorized that clinical depression and related mental illnesses may result from a perceived absence of control over the outcome of a situation. Therefore, learned helplessness and depression _may_ be linked in certain situations. Animals or people that have been ineffective and less sensitive in determining the consequences of their behavior are defined as having acquired learned helplessness.".

I cock my head and question, "So, the cat?". Farengar rolls his eyes and elaborates, "The cat in the box with a lock gets it's paws stabbed, and can't get out.". I nod. "It learns it can't jump out, so it gives up fighting. Then, when it's placed in a box without a lock it just gives up. It's helpless, and doesn't think it can make anything change.". I nod again. "The cat in the box without the lock jumps out, and it knows it can get out. As long as there isn't a lock, it'll jump out. It's not helpless to the situation.". I nod once again before asking, "Can you get the hurt cat to jump out of the box?". He nods back and further explains, "You would have to reach in and remove the cat when the spikes stabbed its paws.".

"But that still carries the change of it heavily relying on you, and not really knowing it can get out. The most effective way to get out is to move its limbs like it would, and eventually it will mimic the motions. Repeat the process a few times, and it'll eventually mimic the movements on its own. That's when it'll realize it can escape on its own, and it won't need help.". As he's been talking he's been drawing some more pictures. It's a series of drawings depicting a faceless Dunmer reaching into the box, making the cat work its way out, and eventually the abused cat jumping on its own. Farengar hits the paper again, hinting that he's done.

I blink and suddenly realize something. "What in oblivion did you do for her eye?!". I realize I never even bothered to examine the woman's face. Damn. However, Farengar puts my fears to rest when he assures me, "I stopped the bleeding, but I had to remove it. Nasty stuff, she wouldn't stop squirming.". I feel anger consume me as I snarl, "Do you _know_ what that woman just went through?! She just admitted to the Jarl of Whiterun that her mother had been abusing and raping her for _ten_ _years_!". The mage rolls his eyes and sighs. "I'm aware, she yelled loud enough for the dead to hear. But the eye was absolutely shredded, and she'd never be able to see out of it again.".

"If I had left the eye in, then it could have gotten infected and killed her. It was safer to remove it. Don't worry, she has a cloth shoved in the socket.". He suddenly looks concerned and tells me, "Actually, be very worried. This _might_ have just pushed her deeper into her pit of 'I can't do anything about anything'. And, by might I mean 'absolutely'.". I groan and mumble, "Why?". Farengar takes my question at face value and replies, "She finally tried to do something about the situation, and she was punished. She attempted to break the circle of learned helplessness, and the circle bit her in the ass before throwing her right back in.".

I look at the pictures and whisper, "How can I help her?". Farengar motions for me to wait for a moment, then disappears. When he returns he's carrying a medium sized book in his hand. As he hands me the book I look at the title. RAI. The mage brushes himself off as he explains, "Rape, abuse, incest. It's a therapy book a lot of healers use when they've gotten prisoners of war back from the enemy. They usually focus on the first two, so the third part isn't the best in the world. It's never been rewritten like the first two, and it's far shorter.".

"I'd focus on the third part first. I highly doubt the woman is focusing on the 'I was raped and abused' part and is more focused on the 'she was my mother' fact. If I'd take a guess I still doubt the woman is thinking of the assault as rape or abuse, but focusing on the incest aspect. Work past that, and she'll eventually come to realize that what her mother did was rape and child abuse.". His face looks sickened as he explains, "That's when the hard part comes in. You'll need to work past the rest of her problems. I'd suggest working on getting that mother executed. If your maid even sees her abuser after her rehabilitation, then it could set you back months or weeks.". I nod and promise, "I'll try my hardest to see that Ma'aji's head rolls.". I stand and turn to look at Vassakhar and Zoaadirr.

I instantly command, "You will stay for as long as the maid wishes, and leave if you give her trouble. Farengar will find you some rooms.". Without waiting for a response I turn and walk away, but I stop almost instantly. The path to the dungeons is in front of me, but the stairs that lead to my room are to my right. I consider my options, and ultimately go right. I find the Khajiit wrapped up in a ton of blankets and curled up on herself, blankly looking at the wall. I lock the doors, secure the windows, and hide any weapons I have in my locked writing desk. Finally, I turn to the maid. When she sees me she moves over so I have room to slide in beside her.

As I do I wrap my arm around her waist in a protective manner. The woman appreciates it, but flips over so she's facing me. She slides down a little so she can rest her head on my collarbone, and wraps her arms around my middle. As she morphs to fit to my body I mumble, "Sleep tight.". She nods, but doesn't respond. I close my eyes, simply enjoying lying with the woman. "In the morning we'll need to talk about it. You know that, don't you?". She nods into my collarbone. I rub her back and she whispers, "Don't leave.". I promise, "I won't.". In a few minutes she begins slowly breathing in and out, slumber overcoming her. I take one last look at her, then close my eyes and follow her example.


	28. Memories of Mother

**Dovahkiin POV:**

When I open my eyes I see the familiar lilac colored walls I've woken up to even since the day I was born. With a yawn I turn back over, kicking off my blankets to cool me down. I'm barely dozing off when my door _creaks_ open. _Please be dad, please be dad, please be dad_. A gentle hand strokes my face, and for a moment I stop breathing because of terror. That's when a glass of water is poured onto me. I splutter and shoot up, flicking my sopping mane around as laughter reaches my ears. I finally spot the culprit. Do'isa is wearing a gigantic grin as she chuckles at her work. I reach out and playfully claw at my sister. My older sibling leaps to the side and tells me,"Get your lazy ass out of bed, breakfast's been on the table for eight minutes now!".

I roll my eyes and tell her, "Start without me, I'll be out in a minute.". Do'isa scoffs and threatens, "If you aren't out there in less than three minutes I'm eating your food.". She doesn't wait for a response, instead running away to take her spot at the table. I fling off the rest of the covers and slide off the bed, young feet coming to rest on the floor. As I dress I can't help noticing (like I do every single day) that my hand-me-down clothes hang off my body far more than I'm comfortable with. Oh well, my twelfth birthday is coming up soon enough, maybe I'll get some better clothes then.

My name is called from the kitchen, and I quickly rush in there. My plate is already set, and the food has already been served. I pull out my seat, hop up on it, and scoot it forward. Right between Do'isa and mother. I feel someone lovingly rub my back, and for a brief moment I allow the feeling of being loved to pass over me. Then, all the memories of what my mother and me have done enter my mind, and a sickness comes over my stomach. I've been feeling rather queasy and unsure of myself for a while now, but my mother's always written it off as a stomachache or a bit of bad beef. My father suddenly laughs at a joke my eldest brother made, and I'm reminded that I was called in here for breakfast.

I happily pick up a fatty bit of sausage and start munching away on it, allowing the delicious food to take my mind off of my mother. As we eat I feel a hand come to rest on my knee, the gentle touch beginning to rub and knead my flesh. I nearly choke on a bit of egg, but I manage to control myself. I'm already aware of what my mother wants, so I carefully and casually reach one hand under the table. Ma'aji twines her fingers with mine and roughly squeezes, once again reminding me how much stronger and bigger she is. I continue eating my breakfast, desperately attempting to block out the feeling on my hand being squeezed.

But breakfast can only last so long, and eventually we're out of food. My father wipes his face once before standing and beginning to give out orders to everyone. I pray to all the gods I know that I'm on the list, but it's no surprise when my name is left off. My mother stays at home every single day so she can 'clean the house' (in reality I'm beginning to suspect it's simply because she doesn't want to work), and recently I've been forced to stay home with her. I've tried to get chores a few times, but nothing even happened. And, Ma'aji only got angry because of my attempts to escape. In the end my sisters, brothers, and father all leave to attend to the farm.

I'm left behind with my mother. I'm cleaning the dishes from breakfast when I feel a hand come to rest on my shoulder, and a familiar breathing clogging my ears. I close my eyes and begin cleaning the dishes harder than before, still attempting to block out what's going on. A gentle kiss to the back of the ear and a whispered, "Mommy's little girl.". A warm hand comes around to stroke my front, my own mother's fingertips rubbing my flesh. "Finish the dishes and come to my room.". I nod and my mother leaves. The second she's gone I begin doing the dishes as slowly as humanly possible, and rewash them after deeming them 'too dirty to use'.

Finally, my chore is done and I can't take up any more time without it looking suspicious. I put my rag down and begin slowly walking to my mother's room, taking some time to admire a few of our paintings and portraits as I go. However, we're too poor to afford a lot of paintings and eventually I can only stare at the blank wall. "What are you doing?". My mother is right behind me, her metaphorical weight bearing down on me making a heavy and terrifying presence. I look up at her green eyes and whisper, "Nothing.". A slap to my ass is my reward as she tells me, "Get to bed.". I nod and scuttle away, willing my mother to find something better to do or my father to have a sudden urge to come home.

But nobody comes, and eventually I find myself lying on my mother's bed. Waiting. Always waiting. When my mother finally arrives I end up curled up on myself, unwilling to go through with what she wants. My mother sighs as she locks her door, then makes her way over to me. She sheds her clothing as she goes, revealing her naked glory to all the world. When she reaches me the woman rubs my back and commands, "Open.". I slowly unfurl myself, still unwilling to go through with this. But willingness doesn't matter to my mother, and soon enough she's on top of me. As her breath washes over my face I close my eyes and let out a small whimper.

A harsh slap to the cheek. I can _feel_ my mother's weight bearing down on me, her grown body towering over my childish form. "Mommy.". A deep groan from above me as Ma'aji demands, "Say that again.". When I stay silent I feel claws come to rest on my throat. "Again.". I swallow and whisper, "Mommy.". Another groan, and I feel my mother's hips bump against mine. "Get naked.". I shake my head and feel claws rip open my cheek as my own mother harshly slaps me, her claws extended for the full effect. I cry out and begin wiggling to signal to my mother that I'm willing to go through with what she wants. Ma'aji finally crawls off of me, but her claws are still out.

I weakly stand and start taking off my shirt, whimpering in fear all the while. Once that's off my mother reaches out, attempting to play with tits that aren't there yet. I feel two harsh tugs to my nipples and I realize I've stopped doing what I was told. Instantly I begin taking off the rest of my clothes as quickly as I can, desperate to please my mother. When I'm finally naked my mother rewards me with another slap to my nonexistent ass and a gruff, "Get on the bed.". I nod and hurry onto the mattress, assuming the position my mother's always liked. Lying flat on my back with my legs spread. Sure enough, Ma'aji nods in approval.

She crawls back onto the bed and nuzzles my neck as she whispers, "Mama's special little girl.". I swallow a lump in my throat as my eyes swell with tears, the mere thought of my mother making my stomach twist in a knot. I feel a rough tongue lick my neck, and I know what comes next. Ma'aji slides down my body, stopping at my chest. Another rough lick, this time on my nipple. Then, a rougher bite that's hard enough to draw blood and make me jolt in pain. A little slap to my hip and a stern warning of, "Lie still if you know what's good for you.". Eventually my mother reaches her prize, and she roughly spreads apart my thighs. "Mommy. Please...".

A harsh laugh followed by my mother spitting on my entrance. All I can do is whimper and bring my claws up to my arm, beginning what's by now become a tradition. Whenever my mother feels the need to 'relieve' (that's what she calls it) herself by doing things to me, I'll always 'relieve' myself by ripping up the upper portion of my left arm. It's not the healthiest solution in the world, but it's all I have. As my blood begins to flow I feel two fingers begin to play around with my cunt. "Mommy-". A hissed, "Shut up!". I swallow another lump and nod, going silent as my mother starts climbing back up my body. The only thing that doesn't move is her cruel fingers.

Big lips capture my own in a kiss and the only defense I have is whimpering as my mother's tongue roughly enters my mouth, claiming it as her own. Her fingers begin moving inside of me, tearing apart my young body. I haven't even gone through puberty yet, things _definitely_ aren't suppose to be inside me at this point in time. But my mother couldn't seem to care less. Her fingers spear me with her claws still out, blood beginning to flow as Ma'aji moans and whispers encouragement to me. "Good girl. _Very_ good girl. Take it. Take it all like the big girl you are.". Her words are interrupted by a groan and I can't hold it in anymore. I start to cry in a mix of shame and pain, my cunt walls still being torn into by my own mother's claws.

"_Fuck_ that's hot. Touch your own tit. Do it! Come on, _do_ _it_!". I swallow and bring one shaking hand up to a breast that's never existed, and weakly start tugging and rubbing my nipple in a way I know will please my mother. It doesn't fail, and I feel Ma'aji's hot breath washing over my face as she groans, "_Slut_! Little fucking _whore_! You like this, tell me you like this!". I close my eyes as the tears come even more. "I like it.". A sudden scream freezes the event, and we both snap out heads over to the window my mother failed to close the blinds over. Do'isa is looking in the window, and it's clear she's seen too much for my mother's liking.

My sister makes eye contact, and I can see the revulsion in her eyes. In an instantly my sibling is running away, screaming her head off as she goes. "Dad! Dad!". Ma'aji practically roars, "NO!". In an instant she's at the window, yanks it open, and leaps out. I curl up on myself and hold my hands over my ears. It doesn't block out Do'isa's screams when Ma'aji finally catches up to her, or the _scrapping_ of my sister as our mother drags her across the sands of Hammerfell. I close my eyes and begin to cry, blood still leaking from my cunt. And to think today started out so normal.

* * *

><p>I wake up screaming, sweat clinging to me. Irileth is up in a second, wrapping her arms around me and assuring me, "It's okay. It's okay. Everything's fine. I've got you. I've got you.". I turn to her and trap her in a hug, burying my face in her shoulder as I cry. We stay like that the rest of the night, and before the sun rises the ghost of my mother is chased away by the Dunmer's arms wrapped around me. For now.<p> 


	29. A Caged Cat

**Irileth POV:**

I charge down to the dungeons, my sword already drawn. I find Ma'aji leaning against the bars of her cell, the Jarl already talking to her. No doubt he's telling her something about her 'right's as a citizen. I push my friend out of the way and yank Ma'aji out of her cell. A look of true confusion and fear comes over her face as she sees the sword in my hand. I relish her fear and snarl, "Prepare to die for your crimes!". I kick one of her knees out from under her, the woman grunting as she falls to her hands and knees like the bitch she is. My sword is raised and ready to strike when I feel a hand grab my arm. I yank my head over and see Jarl Balgruuf shaking his head.

I yank my arm away and shove my hands down to my side in a motion that clearly shows how angered I am. "What?!". My friend sighs and tells me, "You _know_ that's not how justice works. We still have to try her, and the penalty for rape and child abuse _isn't_ death. I personally feel like it should be, but Queen Elisif has decided to be merciful to people like Ma'aji.". The woman in question is currently trying to get to her feet. Balgruuf sighs and gently puts the woman back in her cell, solidly locking the door in front of her. I kick the bars and tell Balgruuf, "The maid just spent the last three hours bawling her eyes out because she had a nightmare about when she was younger.".

I hear Ma'aji chuckle from her cell and say, "Stupid bitch.". I'm not sure if she's saying it in reference to me or the maid, but I kick the cell as hard as I can anyway. The woman flips me off before walking deeper into her cell, curling up on the bed as I turn to Balgruuf. "When is the trial?". He shrugs and explains, "It was set for a week or two from today.". I shake my head and argue, "Tomorrow. The day after at the latest.". When the Jarl begins to shake his head I demand, "TOMORROW!". My friend takes a small step back and raises his hands in a defensive position, but gives in to my wishes. "Fine, tomorrow. Do you think you could get your maid to show up for the trial?".

"She would just need to admit the truth once, and we could lock Ma'aji up a lot faster. Her mother would have to be in the room though. We can't let her out of our sights, not even for a minute or two. The maid's brother and father have already agreed to come, but the maid's word would still weigh heavily and get her mother convicted faster.". I shake my head and promise, "Impossible. Not after what she's been through. Are you certain you can still get her convicted without the maid saying it?". He nods and assures me, "We can, it just might take a little longer. You know, she could always come up to my room and visit little Stirri. I'm certain he's dying for some company besides me.".

I rub my temples and question, "Did you name your penis?". Jarl Balgruuf goes as red as a beet as he explains, "No! Gods no! That's what I've decided to name my son. The poor boy has only had me for company for a while now. I'm certain he would like the woman to visit him. She seemed to enjoy him the last time you two came around.". I sigh and apologize, "I completely forgot you had a son. I'm sorry, my mind has just been one gigantic mess recently.". My friend brushes it off and tells me, "It's fine. I understand, you and your maid have had a lot of shit on your mind. And, some things are more important than a screaming babe who always shits the second I've finished cleaning him.".

I begin calming down slightly as I confirm, "The maid might like that. I think she likes babes. At least, to my knowledge she does. I'm certain she wants something to take her mind off all of this, and Stirri would be the perfect distraction. Can she go up to your room with me and Stirri during the trial?". Balgruuf chews on his beard a little and takes a moment to think. "Stirri and her should be fine, but I'm afraid you can't leave the room. You're actually needed for the trial. You were the one who arrested Ma'aji, you were the one that got the witnesses, and you yourself need to make a statement on what happened.".

I sigh in understanding and begin leaving the dungeons, my friend right behind me. "I know it's terrible and you'd rather be with the maid, but these things must be done. If you don't make a statement and do your part, then it becomes even harder to put Ma'aji behind bars. Not impossible, but definitely more of a challenge. And, the sentence won't be as harsh as it would be with your word. Now, what punishment do you see fit for the woman's actions, if she were to be found guilty of the crimes presented against her?". I instantly tell him, "Death. A horrible death. I'd like to have some torture in there first, but either way it's fine. But death is required. A death worthy of the greatest traitor in the entire Empire.".

Jarl Balgruuf sighs and repeats, "We _can't_ kill her. Elisif deems that too harsh of a punishment for those who've done Ma'aji's crimes.". I scoff and encourage, "My blade doesn't. A little poison might also work, or we can claim she busted out of jail and tried to escape. That's enough reason to kill her.". Balgruuf admits, "That's enough reason to kill her, and Elisif couldn't fight with our logic. But we _have_ to do this right. It's what separates us from her.". I groan and complain, but give in. We walk in silence for a few moments before I ask, "So, how's the kid?". He smiles and begins talking, but I hardly listen.

* * *

><p><strong>Ma'aji POV:<strong>

I wait until the keep is asleep to put my plan into action. I carefully put my plan into action by sneaking over to my cell door, and slowly sticking my one hidden lockpick into the lock. As I slowly move it around I finally hear it _click_, and I know I've made my freedom possible. I smirk and flatten myself to the ground, slinking into the next room. As I go I pass a Khajiit and Nord in a cell, but neither of them are paying attention to me because they're too busy whispering to one another. Good. When I reach the room I find a guard is snoozing in a corner, my possession in a chest beside him. I smile and crawl over, likewise unlocking the lock that's holding the chest closed.

When it flips open I smile, and reach inside. I take everything I can get my hands on, and then some. By the time I'm done I'm armored, armed, and have a ton of treasures. I even have a few potions that will turn me invisible for a few minutes. Perfect. I swallow one of the potions and begin sneaking away, walking straight past a guard who would have spotted me. I have quite a few potions, so I five myself thirty minutes at the max. _Just_ enough time to do my deeds and get lost. I struggle for a little bit, but eventually I find the room where my husband and son are sleeping. I pull a knife from my boot, but now I have a problem.

Which to kill first? I look between the two, then decide. My husband is soundly asleep, his snores resounding around the room. It'll be too obvious if I kill him first. My son lies on his back, and I don't want to take the time to flip him over. So, I yank back my knife as far as I can, then sink it into his skull. A slight gasp and he goes still. I try to yank my blade back out, but it _snaps_ at the handle. Damn. I go over to my husband and lovingly rub his neck. The man lets out a hum of appreciation, still too far gone to realize what's going on. I quickly shove my invisible hands down on his windpipe, cutting off his oxygen. As he wakes up and begins fighting I lean down, barely avoiding his claws.

It puts me right by his ear, and I take the moment to whisper, "Hello, sweetie.". I see recognition cross his face and he begins fighting harder than ever before. It doesn't work, and eventually he's dead. I realize he might be faking, and quickly snap his neck for good measure. When I'm assured they're both dead I smile for what feels like the thousandth time that night, but take a moment to drink another potion. I carefully close their door behind me. I don't want them to be found until tomorrow. When I'm long gone. Now I only have two more things to do. I find the Dunmer's room easily, and it's not too hard to undo her lock and slip inside unnoticed.

Once I'm inside I carefully close and lock the door again. I don't want my prey running away from me. At least, not yet. My daughter is curled up in the Dunmer's arms, a small smile on her lips. Damned bitches. I crawl over and stand, my potion deactivating. I reach out and cup my child's face, forcing her head so she can look at me. As she opens her eyes I smile, revealing each sharp fang my mouth holds. When my child sees me she freezes up, then opens her mouth to scream. My fingers in her mouth stop her and I command, "Suck.". I have no intentions of fucking her (yet), but it's wonderful to see the fear in her eyes. As her tongue works around my digits I tell her, "You've been a _very_ naughty girl, haven't you?".

Sharp fangs comes down on my fingers, and I hold in my scream of pain. Instead, I reveal my own fangs and whisper, "If you don't let go right this second, then I'll rip your precious little Dunmer's throat out right in front of you. Now, what will it be?". She opens up slightly, moving her mouth around my fingers again. I eventually yank my fingers out of her mouth, a _pop_ causing the Dunmer in my daughter's bed to mumble. I smile down at my one-eyed child and whisper, "I killed your father and brother, just like I slew Do'isa all those years ago. Now, I'm going to kill your little bitch here.".

Her eyes widen and her mouth opens, but I slam my free hand into her mouth. She bites down, but I don't let up. I use my other hand to pull out my dagger as I continue. "I'm going to kill this bitch, then I'm going to rape you. Then, I'll smack you around until you pass out. Finally, I'll drag you back to the farm. I'll come up with some excuse for my return, and you'll back it up. Everyone will be forced to accept it, and everything will return to normal. Now, watch me kill this bitch.". I raise my dagger and swing it down at the Dunmer. Everything that happens next is a blur. My daughter chomps down on my hand, spits it out, and leaps over the Dunmer. As she does she screams, "IRILETH!". That's when the knife enters her back.


	30. The Coming Storm

**Irileth POV:**

I wake up when someone screams my name, and what I see causes my yowl of panic to mingle with the maid's. The poor woman is writhing and screaming on top of me, and I can feel a liquid seeping from her and leaking onto me. I see above her the Khajiit's own mother snarling and desperately tugging on something. I instantly heave the maid off of me and slip out from underneath her, and I'm able to see the entire scene. My maid is twitching on my bed and I see a dagger slightly protruding from her back, and Ma'aji is yanking on it with all her might. The dagger refuses to come out, and eventually _snaps_ off at the handle. The maid moans and goes limp, but I can still see her sides rising and falling as she attempts to breathe.

Ma'aji tosses her dagger's handle to the side and turns to me. Without thinking I launch myself at her, prepared to kill. The woman steps to the side and I completely miss my mark, hitting the wall behind her. As I slide to the ground I hear the woman unlock the door and rush out. In an instant I know I have a choice to make. Chase after Ma'aji and let my wounded maid go without medical attention, or take my partner to the healer and allow Ma'aji to continue running. I roar in frustration and pick up the maid in my arms, running down the corridors that lead to Farengar's chambers.

As I go I scream, "Prisoner loose! Prisoner loose! Kill her, don't let her escape!". The guards hear me and spring into action, but from what I can tell all of them can't find Ma'aji. Farengar is still up when I find him, and it seems he already knows what to do. He takes the Khajiit from my arms and advises, "Go find Ma'aji. If you don't get her soon, then she'll be gone.". I nod and rush back out of his room, helping the guards look for the woman. Nothing. I'm about to give up when I see the main hall's door open and close by itself. Something clicks in my mind and I scream in frustration. Invisibility potions! I begin stampeding towards the door, and barrel through it without a second thought.

I see Ma'aji by the foot of the stairs and do the only thing I can think of. I scream and charge down the steps, leaping off halfway down and landing in the pond that's beside the base of the steps. When I land I begin furiously swimming and leap out of the pond, and see Ma'aji on the other side of the clearing that holds the Gildergreen. I rush past the tree and scream, "Guards! Guards!". Nobody comes to help me, and I pick up my speed. Ma'aji takes the steps at a fast pace, but I all but leap down them. The Khajiit is fast, but she can't compete with taking three steps at a time. I reach out and feel my fingertips brush Ma'aji's shirt, and then the woman picks up her pace.

I yell, "BITCH! GET BACK HERE AND FACE DEATH!". Ma'aji flips me off with both of her hands as she continues running. When she burst through the doors of Whiterun I hear storm clouds _crack_ in the distance. Fuck, soon it'll be dark and raining. The perfect conditions to flee from the city. However, Ma'aji is tiring. Soon enough I'm within a few feet of her. I reach out, but can't _quite_ get her. I reach inside myself and try to pull out one burst of speed. I do, but it's _still_ not enough. Ma'aji and I are both panting, stumbling, and barely able to walk. That's when we reach the stables. The Khajiit rushes over to a horse, mounts it, and begins riding away.

I curse her and go over to the local carriage driver. He screams in protest as I undo his horse and climb onto its back, but I really couldn't care less at the moment. Ma'aji got a small head start on me, but my horse is faster. It only makes sense. He's use to pulling a carriage around all day and being forced to go a decent speed in order to make good time, so he'd naturally become quicker than other horses. When I near the woman I lie, "Turn yourself in! It'll be easier that way!". I'm flipped off once again, and the woman never halts. I hear the sky _crack_ and open up around me, drenching me in water. I know it might be futile, but I don't give up. Ma'aji isn't going to get away with this. Not this time.

* * *

><p><strong>Dovahkiin POV:<strong>

The man beside me slowly pulls the dagger from my back, and I can't help whimpering. The healer pats me on the shoulder and mumbles, "You're fine, it'll be over soon.". I nod and he keeps sliding it out of me. My claws come out and dig into the wood below me. I hear a _scraping_ of the metal against bone and begin to panic, but Farengar assures me, "It's almost done. You'll be as good as new in a few minutes. We just have to get past the bone, then I'll patch you up.". I nod and he suddenly yanks the dagger out. I bite the side of my mouth to stop a building scream, and the man puts the dagger on the table within my line of sight. I can't help cringing a little.

The jagged metal is covered in my own blood, and slightly bent at the tip. I feel the man cast a spell on me, and he explains, "I'm going to heal up your insides, but the bone will have to fix itself. Don't worry, it's just a little scratch. It'll be healed in no time. Finally, I'll stitch you up and shave the fur around the wound. Any questions?". When I shake my head he begins going to work even more, casting more powerful and effective spells. I sigh as the pain from my wounds slowly goes away. When I feel myself being stitched up I ask, "What happened after I got here?". The man quickly explains things to me, and my heart turns to ice.

I begin pushing myself up and explain, "I need to go find Irileth. I need to stop this.". The man looks oddly pleased and tells me, "The Jarl's horse is behind the stables. He's one of the fastest mounts in Skyrim. Take him, and you should be able to catch up to them. Grab a dog from the Jarl's pens to trail them. And, don't tell Balgruuf I told you any of this.". I nod and stand, my clothes still soaked in my own blood. Walking is still a little painful, but I endure it and go about my tasks. Whatever is going to happen to my mother and/or Irileth, I _need_ to be there for it. All of this started with me, and I intend to end it the same way. I grab the fastest looking dog from the Jarl's pen and go down to the stables.

Sure enough, a sleek stallion is behind the stables. As I mount him I yank a cloth I snagged from Irileth's dresser, and hang it in front of the dog's nose. He sniffs it, sniffs around on the ground, then barks and rushes away. I smack my horse on the side and follow him. We've only been going for a little bit when the sky _cracks_, and rain begins pouring down on us. The dog howls in terror, but continues doing his job. We're forced to slow down a little for the rain, but we're still able to go fast enough that I'm certain we'll find them. I'm not wrong, and within a few minutes of riding they come into my sight. Perfect.

* * *

><p><strong>Irileth POV:<strong>

I send a silent prayer for the gods to help me, and for once they do. Ma'aji's horse steps in a pothole, and the beast screams as its leg breaks. The Khajiit tries to jump off as her horse falls, but it's no use. She ends up trapped beneath the steed. I smile and slow down a little, savoring the sight of my maid's tormentor squirming in the mud. As I dismount I strut over to her, a gigantic smirk on my face. Once I reach her I put a foot on her chest, and the Khajiit looks up at me. The look on her face is wonderful and practically orgasmic to me. Ma'aji's eyes scream of terror and fear. I smile and pull my sword from its sheath. "Any last words before I send you to oblivion?".

The woman swallows and begs, "Please, I'll go back. Just don't kill me. Not here, not like this.". I put all of my weight on her chest and my smile widens as she gasps and twitches, desperate to get my foot off of her. I yank my sword up and prepare to kill her, but a barking interrupts me. I look over in confusion and see one of Balgruuf's hunting hounds rushing over to me. Why in oblivion didn't I think of using one of those? I realize the guards must be coming to arrest Ma'aji. I'll need to kill the woman quickly, and come up with some excuse about why I needed to kill her. But I can't before a horse appears out of the rain.

I prepare to kill Ma'aji, but that's until I see the horse's rider. I lower my sword and scream to my maid, "Go home! I've got this! You don't want to be here to see what I'm about to do!". Her horse stops beside mine and she gets off her steed. The hunting hound points at me and begins howling, ignoring the rain that's still coming down around us. My maid splashes over to me and begs, "Please! Don't do this!". I groan and tell her, "I _need_ to. This woman spent the last ten years making your entire life a living oblivion. She _deserves_ to die!". The maid is right beside me, but she's still forced to scream over the thunder, "I _know_ that! Oblivion, she's killed three of our family members!".

In an instant I ask, "Who?". My maid screams, "My sister Do'isa, Zoaadirr, and Vassakhar. And, those are only the ones I know.". I feel panic grip me and I roar back, "She's an evil bitch! She killed the only people who would stand against her, and tried to kill me for good measure! She intended on taking you back to the farm!". My partner nods. "I know that, but she deserves mercy! If we kill her, then we're no better than her! Everyone deserves a chance for redemption and forgiveness! I can't get my childhood back, but that doesn't mean we should take her life! Please, killing her goes against everything I believe in. Let her live. Not for her, but for me. Please?".

I sigh and feel my sword being lower. I look and see my maid's hand on my wrist. I sigh and slowly nod. Ma'aji suddenly chuckles, "Bitch!". I roar and bring down my sword, but my maid moves and shields her mother. All I can do is scream as it pierces her.

* * *

><p><strong>Note: I can feel this coming to an end pretty soon. It might include an epilogue that takes place a few months in the future. Just a warning.<strong>


	31. A Daughter's Wish

As my partner cries out I yank the sword from her body. She's hurt, but still able to scuttle around so she's lying on top of her mother. She's facing me and forming a makeshift shield for her mother. "Irileth. _Please_.". I shake my head. "Move.". The young Khajiit whimpers, "_Please_. I love you, but I can't be with you if you're a murderer.". Ma'aji is still shielded by her mother, but I can see her face. She's terrified and confused. I suppose that makes two of us. I try to explain things to my partner. "Your mother is a criminal, and you're protecting her. That makes you an asset. By shielding her you're defending the life of someone who deserves to die, _and_ I'll be forced to arrest you.".

It's a lie that I'd arrest her, but I need her to believe it. Even if it's just for a few seconds. My partner stands firm and begs me, "Don't do this. Remember what we had? The mountains and the view? I'm still the same person, only now I've trusted you with my secret. Please, don't kill her. I _know_ she deserves to die, but I still don't want her to. She's my mother.". I scoff. "She raped you, beat you, and psychologically scared you. You've become helpless, and your mother will only make it worse.". The maid shakes her head and swears, "She'll leave! She'll never bother us again or break the law or anything! Please, don't kill her!".

I demand, "Move. I'm not going to be a 'murderer' like her. I'm going to be a bringer of justice, and prove to Ma'aji that nobody gets away with their crimes.". I swear I see tears in my partner's eyes, or maybe it's just the rain. Either way, she keeps begging me. "I love her. She beat me, raped me, and took away my entire childhood, but I love her! It's that stupid love that every child has for their parent, and can't shake no matter how hard they try. I loved my father, and now he's gone! Ma'aji is all I have left!".

"I don't want to see her or be around her ever again, but my blood forces me to beg for her life. If I don't, then I'll spend the rest of my life hating myself.". Now I know those are tears in her eyes. "And resenting you. I don't want to go the rest of my life without you Irileth, but I will if I have to. I can't sleep in the same bed as someone who's taken another person's life. It goes against all of my morals. Please, just let Ma'aji live.". I stomp my foot in the mud. "She'll get away! You and I are the only ones who could show up at the trial and speak against her. My word is bias, and I don't want to make you go through that again. Even if you spoke up, it would end up being a 'he said she said' thing. I _can't_ let a woman like this walk free! Now step aside and let me do my job, I don't want to have to make you watch what's going to happen.".

Ma'aji is shaking in fear now, and she's gripping her daughter like a human shield. I snarl at the older Khajiit and talk to her, "Do you see what you've done to her?! Do you not have the slightest bit of a decent bone in your body?! You've ruined half of your daughter' life, and now you've brainwashed her! You're the sickest piece of shit I've ever seen, and I swear to whatever fucked up deity you worship that I'll chop your head off! Now stop cowering behind your daughter like a bitch, and get out here to face death like a woman!". Ma'aji keeps cowering behind her daughter, and the maid begs, "Please! Just stop and put yourself in my position! What if I threatened to kill Balgruuf or his son?".

I stomp my foot in the mud again. "If they raped me, beat me, and ruined all of my childhood, then I'd gladly step aside and let you chop them into a thousand pieces! Now, will you _please_ stand aside and let your mother die?!". The Khajiit slowly stands and walks up to me, a pleading look in her eyes. I feel her arms wrap around me, and she smashes me in a hug. "Please.". I feel myself begin to shake, and I drop my sword. As I hug the maid I look at her mother and snarl, "Leave and never return.". As Ma'aji begins running away I wrap the Khajiit in my arms and whisper, "Let's go home.". She nods and we begin walking.

* * *

><p>I nuzzle the back of the Khajiit's neck and she sighs, both of us enjoying our day off. Balgruuf gave us both a week off from our duties to recover from the incident. So far we've spent the days lazing in bed and talking. The maid turns her head back and kisses my neck. "I love you.". I kiss the top of her forehead. "I love you.". She snuggles back a little into me and asks, "Do you regret letting her go?". I nod, but assure her, "She was your demon. If you didn't want to prosecute her, then I should have respected that. I should have been supportive of you either way, and helped you on the road to recovery.". I spot the urns sitting on my desk and question, "What are you going to do to them?".<p>

The maid looks at her brother and father and mumbles, "Bury them eventually.". I expect her to cry, but she doesn't. I can't say I blame her. She spent the first two days crying continuously in mourning, and now I think she's cried out. I rub her back and question, "When do you want to talk about it all? I'll support you whenever you choose, but don't feel rushed or like you should put it off.". The Khajiit examines her claws and says, "Give me a few more days to pretend like everything's normal and that nothing's happened.". I nod and go back to cuddling her, simply enjoying her presence and warmth.

* * *

><p>I hand my maid another rag that she uses to wipe her face, but she still looks about ready to burst into tears. I completely understand why she's crying so hard, and all I can do is hug her and tell her it'll be okay. We've been doing this for the past few weeks, and she's made some amazing progress. Each day we tackle what was wrong about what her mother did to her, how it wasn't the maids fault, and how she can get past the experience and live a rich and fulfilling life. Her main struggle is the getting past it part. She's been abused and raped her entire life, so she's having trouble imagining anything else. It's been her entire existence until recently.<p>

The best thing I've found is to go out and do new things with her, to show her that her life isn't defined by the moments her mother forced her to endure. The Khajiit is making some amazing leaps and bounds (she can kiss me on the lips without cringing), but there's still so much to go. That's something both the maid and I need to work on. All we're doing is focusing on the path ahead, not the path we've already taken. My maid's finished drying her eyes, and goes back to telling the story of her sixteenth birthday, when her mother forced her to be her sexual toy for the entire day. Eventually she collapses into a crying mess on my arm, and all I can do is be there for her. In my mind I curse Ma'aji, and regret letting her live.

* * *

><p>My maid slowly kisses me, but remains cautious. I once again understand where she's coming from, and gently pull away to tell her, "You don't have to if you don't want to.". She shakes her head and whispers, "Just give me a minute or two.". She goes back to gently kissing me, her hands roaming up and down my naked body. She originally said she wanted to be on bottom, but quickly changed her mind once I climbed on top of her. This is the first time the Khajiit has stated she wanted to be physically intimate, and I wasn't about to deny her request. It's been months since her mother ran away from me on the plains of Whiterun (we thankfully haven't seen hide nor hair of her since), and the Khajiit has diligently been going to therapy to overcome what her mother did to her.<p>

Now she's ready to have sex with someone who isn't her mother, and that's absolutely amazing to me. The Khajiit moves down a little and seats herself on my thigh, and I lean up to kiss her. It makes things less awkward and more natural. I feel her hands come down and she gentle touches my cunt, mimicking the motions she's doing to herself on my thighs. It's not long before she sighs in completion, and climbs off of my thigh. She continues focusing on me, and once I've reached my crescendo we both snuggle up beside each other under the blankets. Complete.

* * *

><p>Balgruuf slaps my back as I nervously stand at the end of the aisle, practically sweating through my dress. His son sees what his dad did, waddles over to my leg, and slaps it. I chuckle and tell the two, "You don't have to wait up here if you don't want to.". Balgruuf opens his mouth, but he's cut off by the priest of Mara. "Ah here's the blushing bride now. Let's begin the ceremony.". I freeze and look at the Khajiit walking up to me. Her beautifully groomed blue fur somehow goes her white dress, her green eye is shining, and she looks absolutely stunning. To this day I still don't know why she said 'yes'. When she's stopped in front of me the priest continues.<p>

"It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we first learned to love one another. It is from this love that we learn that a life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today, under Mara's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship. Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?". The Khajiit nods and whispers, "I do. Now and forever.". The priest turns to me and asks the same question. I can't help smiling. "I do. Now and forever.".

_The End_

* * *

><p><strong>Note: I had so much fun writing this (doesn't that sound morbid?). It turned out darker than I'd originally thought it would, but I still enjoy it and will stand by it. Thank you all for reading andor reviewing. It means a lot to me, and as I've said a thousand times before this would be nothing without any of you. As of right now my plan is to finish up 'Life Divided' (A New Order), then focus purely on 'A Life Across the Ages'. When that's done I'll probably start one (count 'em, ONE) story is TES Universe. I don't have a plan after that, but trust me. It'll work out. Anyway, thank you all again.**


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